


A Queen Without Power

by afictionado



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 79,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afictionado/pseuds/afictionado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-"A Land Without Magic" piece (written prior to season 2). The curse has broken and Emma must make an escape with Henry. But why she drives them straight to Regina's estate, she has no idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Land With Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she took off from the hospital, she had no idea where they should go or what they could do, if anything, to stay safe. She had to wonder right along with Henry why, out of everywhere they could have gone, she drove them right to Regina’s house.

  
*****

Slowly the purple cloud came toward them, a veritable tidal-wave of violet smoke.

“What is that?” Emma whispered, rooted to the spot. This whole magic business was still completely foreign to her. Despite the dragon-slaying under her belt, she was not at all prepared for this ominous... thing. Whatever it was. What the hell was it?

“Something bad,” Henry answered, in a small voice breaking with trepidation.

Instinctively, she grabbed her son by the wrist. “We gotta go.”

Henry didn’t fight her grip, though she half-wondered if she was hurting him. “Go where?”

Emma glanced back at him abruptly as they left the hospital. It was a valid question; unfortunately, it was one she hadn’t considered. Finally, she huffed. “I don’t know.”

Upon stepping outside, she wondered if she should have reconsidered the current plan of action. The purple smoke was still rolling steadily toward them, climbing over buildings and houses as it engulfed the small town. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, then gave a second glance toward her son. “Sorry.”

Henry just smiled a bit, clearly not fazed with the use of language. “Are we gonna outrun it?”

She shrugged, pulling him toward her yellow Bug. “We sure can try.”

Her old car sputtered to life and she threw it in gear, peeling out down the street. “You buckled in?” she hollered to Henry in the backseat, wind whipping loudly around the car.

“Yep!” Henry was still chipper as ever, seated comfortably in the backseat with his hands clasped in his lap, seemingly trusting her to do the right thing.

“Alright, let’s do this.” She rounded a corner and her eyes widened, hands gripping the steering wheel white-knuckled. They were now practically driving into the cloud.

“Floor it!” Henry goaded, clearly not as terrified and confused as she was, and Emma didn’t hesitate to abide by his direction.

The gas pedal touched the floor as they sped straight into the oncoming purple smoke. They both shrieked then, as the cloud surrounded the car, picking them up, spinning them around and killing the engine mid-air.

“Henry!” she screamed, reaching behind her for his hand. A squeeze of her fingers left her momentarily relieved, and then the car hit the ground again, jarring them both.

She leaned against the steering wheel, attempting to catch her breath, her eyes darting in every direction around them. The violet tidal-wave had passed them. Her eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror as she watched it retreat, further and further into the town. Then she turned the key and, after a few false starts, the engine was running again and they resumed their flight.

**

“Why are we back here?” Henry asked as she threw the car in park.

Emma looked up at the large estate looming over them, heart thudding in her ears. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

It was the truth. When she took off from the hospital, she had no idea where they should go or what they could do, if anything, to stay safe. She had to wonder right along with Henry why, out of everywhere they could have gone, she drove them right to Regina’s house.

She opened the car door and stepped out, spotting Regina’s black Mercedes. Her heart dropped into her feet and bounced up again; she wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely.

She glanced over everything that had happened in the last 24 hours -- Henry taking a bite of the poisoned turnover and collapsing. The fear that had seized her as she drove him to the hospital. The sensation that washed over her when she picked up his book -- the flashes of Snow White and Prince Charming with their beautiful baby daughter, Emma -- the prince throwing her in the enchanted wardrobe and bidding her to find her way back to them someday.

And then the rage that had bubbled within her when she heard Regina’s voice. How the instinct to destroy the woman had been overwhelming as she threw her around in the supply closet, holding her against a row of lockers by the throat. The fear and fire in the woman’s eyes as they were practically nose-to-nose, Emma demanding that she fix what she had done.

Then, the devastation in the queen’s eyes as Emma revealed that Henry was in danger -- the flash of motherly concern as she seemingly surrendered to the idea of the two of them having to work together. And then the strange, unspoken kinship that formed somewhere along the way.

It was difficult to describe, but in a way... she felt connected to Regina now. They had been at each other’s throats consistently since her arrival in Storybrooke and yet she felt the most unusual pull to her. Something had shifted when they had to band together. When she took her to see Maleficent and then when Emma emerged from the elevator shaft to find Regina bound and gagged by Rumplestiltskin.

She remembered touching the woman’s arm, gripping it as she untied her and they took off together. It was the same very brief bond that she felt during the fire, when they both had been in danger. When she slung Regina’s arm over her shoulders and carried her out.

They were two sides of the same coin in both of those moments, each needing the other for survival, even if it was a begrudging need. And maybe it was because of those moments that they were here now. Maybe the answers to what was happening resided with the other side of the coin.

Emma reacted on pure instinct and made her way toward the front door. Henry seized her hand, “But she’ll kill us!” and she squeezed his fingers reassuringly.

“No, she won’t.”

“How do you know?”

An image of Regina came to her when they had been told Henry was dead. The pure devastation on her face and, most importantly, in her eyes. Regina’s love for Henry may have been originally fabricated, but it was real. “Her eyes told me,” she replied simply, and then spun around when they were in the foyer.

Crouching down, she gripped her son’s shoulders and told him sternly, “I want you to stay right here, okay?”

“But--”

“Listen to me! You stay right where you are. And no matter what you hear, do _not_ come after me. I’m gonna be fine, I promise.” She ran a hand through his hair. “And so are you.” She held his eyes, voice shaking with trepidation and repressed adrenaline. “Regina can’t hurt you, do you understand me?”

Henry nodded and then, when she stood up, he threw his arms around her waist in a tight hug. “I love you,” he murmured.

Emma cupped the back of his head and rubbed his back, closing her eyes. “Love you too, kid.” Then she broke away, heading for the stairs and telling him one last time over her shoulder, “Stay here!” before she went in search of Regina.

 

**TBC**


	2. A Reluctant Ceasefire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A guy with a limp and a cane was able to tie you up,” she reasoned with her softly. “What do you think is gonna happen when he has extremely powerful magic at his disposal and you in his sight lines?”

  
*****

“Regina?” Her beckon was careful and cautious as her foot touched the top step, hand still on the ornate banister leading down to where her son was waiting.

She had to be there. Her car was there, door open and engine still idling. Henry’s room drew her attention for reasons unknown, and she moved slowly toward the half-open door.

“Regina...” Pressing her fingertips lightly to the door, it swung open easily and she stepped into the room, instantly spotting the mayor... queen, rather... standing at the window.

She watched as Regina’s spine straightened, hair still slightly disheveled from the events of the day, though still styled perfectly. To Emma, it was rather like Regina herself -- perfection hiding a wreck.

Regina’s left hand stretched out by her side, fingers splayed in a quick flick, and the door behind her slammed closed. Though the motion startled Emma, she didn’t jump; merely looked back at the closed door before turning her eyes to the back of the queen’s head.

“Sheriff Swan,” Regina greeted her, head tilting to the downward diagonal ever-so-slightly though she didn’t turn enough to meet her eyes.

Emma straightened her spine in accordance, hearing the low challenge in her voice. “Madam Mayor,” she returned, then one corner of her lips quirked in a hint of a smirk. “Or maybe I should start calling you ‘Your Majesty.’”

Regina’s lip curled in a sneer as she turned around, folding her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes. “I suppose you should.”

Emma feigned a curtsy, watching a flash of anger hit the woman’s eyes though she didn’t flinch or falter. Once she had straightened again, she tilted her head, folding her arms to mirror Regina’s stance, though hers was more casual than confrontational. “So am I like a... step-granddaughter to you?”

“No.” Derision laced her tone. “Actually, you’re nothing to me.”

Emma’s eyes twitched, studying the queen. Even when they first met, Regina had exuded a regalness that was somewhat intimidating. Despite the sneers and false smiles, she had an air of sophistication. It was a mode she could flip on and off depending on the situation. Emma had been fascinated by it in the beginning; it kept her on her toes in their earlier confrontations, whereas now she saw it for what it was -- a defense mechanism.

“I’m nothing to you?” She scrunched her nose, shaking her head. “I think you know that’s not true.”

Regina bristled. “Really.”

Emma nodded. The tear tracks on her face were all too evident, and she knew exactly what they were from. “You and I share something. Maybe reluctantly, but that something is as much mine as he is yours.”

The veiled mention of Henry was what caused the queen to falter. Emma saw another flash of light in Regina’s brown eyes - the very same one she’d seen when she had revealed Henry’s fate: love.

“Henry.” His name emerged like a prayer, and Emma wondered if there was still a glimmer of hope for this woman, this fallen monarch.

“Yes.”

Regina started for the door. “Where is he?”

Emma blocked her exit, her back against the solid wood. “He’s safe,” she replied cryptically. “But he needs you.”

She scoffed, taking a step back, though not quite out of Emma’s personal space. “He got his real mother to come and rescue him, to break the curse that I created. What could he possibly need me for?”

“For that.” Emma just pointed over Regina’s shoulder, and they both glanced out the window, at the violet smoke still rolling over hills and valleys.

She watched as Regina’s lip curled -- half-sneer, half-smile. “Ah yes.”

“What _is_ that?”

“It’s magic.” The smile on the queen’s face was soft... almost whimsical, as if looking at a treasured friend. “Magic is back.”

“What does that mean?”

Before Emma could so much as blink, she found herself airborne, her back slamming into the wall with her head just shy of hitting the ceiling. She grunted painfully as she landed, pressing her palms into the hardwood floor as she glared through her lashes at Regina.

She just smiled triumphantly. “It means I can do _that_ , to my heart’s content.”

“I don’t think you want to do this,” Emma growled, pushing herself up on arms still feeble from the shock.

“Don’t I?”

With a flick of her fingers, Regina had pulled Emma to her feet and had her against the wall again, though this time she had her forearm against her throat and her free hand pinning Emma’s wrist against the wall. The positioning was instantly familiar, and Emma knew it was payback for what happened at the hospital.

Regina leaned close, breath puffing against Emma’s lips as she stared her down. “Why don’t you give me one good reason why I _shouldn’t_ do this.”

As if in answer, the door flew open and Henry burst in, his eyes wide at the confrontation taking place. “Stop!”

“Henry.” Instantly, Regina dropped Emma to the floor again.

Emma grasped at her throat, coughing slightly from the choke-hold. She knew Regina would give as good as she got, and then some. This had been their dynamic since her arrival. One-upmanship with a slight chess mentality. She half expected the woman to tell her it was ‘her move.’

“I knew it! I knew you would try to kill us!” Henry spat at his foster mother. “Emma tried to tell me that you wouldn’t. She said she saw it in your eyes, but I know what you really are. You’re _evil_.”

Apparently it was that slightly-cutting remark from the ten-year-old that gave the wicked queen pause. She met eyes with Emma and searched them. “You said that to him?”

“I told you before,” Emma ground out. “It’s my job to know how to read people. To be able to tell if they’re lying. I know you love Henry.” Regaining her breath, she stood and leaned against the wall. “He’s as much yours as he is mine... even though that idea sucks.”

Regina stepped back and cast her gaze to the floor, hands on her hips. Emma couldn’t tell if she was composing herself, or plotting her next attack. “I do love Henry,” she murmured after a moment, slowly looking up at the boy. When she did, tears were clouding her brown eyes. “I love you Henry, please believe me.”

The little boy shook his head. “I don’t think I can,” he said sadly... though there was a note in his tone that was off. He sounded almost _too_  sad...

Regina spun away and Emma glimpsed at her surreptitiously before kneeling down to study her son. “Henry...”

The boy looked at her, and just the barest hint of a smile told her everything she needed to know. It was an act. So she straightened up, resumed her position against the wall, and allowed him to play Regina.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t try to hurt Emma,” he pressed, stepping up behind Regina. “But that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do since she came here, don’t you see?”

Regina was facing the window now, looking down. One hand left her hip only long enough to toss her bangs out of her eyes and Emma studied the motion carefully. Even teetering on the edge of a breakdown as she appeared to be, Regina retained her grace. Emma had to wonder how long it took her to achieve that balance. If it was something learned as a girl or something acquired somewhere along the way.

Even when she was being a royal, raging bitch, there was never an ounce of un-ladylike behavior. Maybe that was what gave Emma a charge when challenging the mayor... queen... whatever she was. It was the thrill of trying to get that sophisticated mask to fall away.

There was also a part of Emma that admired Regina’s grace, as much as that admiration pained her. She was envious, in a way. When Emma cried, she knew she looked like a snotty, sniveling mess. Her eyes would get bloodshot, her nose would run, and there was this particular vein in her forehead that stuck out a bit too much for her liking.

And Regina could experience those exact same emotions and still look flawless. It was as irritating as it was captivating.

She shook the thought away quickly as Regina turned around. “So this is a trick to get me to leave Emma alone, is it?”

“No trick,” Henry told her, and Emma just watched them interact from afar. A slightly strained mother-and-son dance borne of ten years of familiarity. Emma didn’t even have one year under her belt with him.

She ducked her head. Christ, another thing she envied about Regina. Great.

“It has to be. I don’t get anything out of it.”

Henry thought about that for a moment, and then shrugged. “Maybe you wouldn’t get killed by Rumplestiltskin if you stuck with us,” he reasoned.

Emma watched as realization dawned on Regina’s features. With the swift return of magic, she clearly hadn’t considered the repercussions.

She took the opportunity to step forward. “Think about it, Regina. Now that the curse is broken, everybody knows what you’ve done and they’re gonna be after you.” An image of a glowing purple vial hit her mind’s eye and she blinked. “And if that ‘true love’ magic that Rumplestiltskin had was really the most powerful magic ever... do you really think you’ve got a chance going up against what he’s probably been planning for years?”

Henry watched his foster mother consider the options carefully as he hammered in the final point. “You might be able to use magic, but you don’t have all the power. _He_  does. And he doesn’t like you very much.”

Regina met Emma’s eyes again and she saw right through her, saw exactly what was on her mind.

“A guy with a limp and a cane was able to tie you up,” she reasoned with her softly. “What do you think is gonna happen when he has extremely powerful magic at his disposal and you in his sight lines?”

Regina’s eyes darted back and forth, seemingly assessing the air in front of her as she thought through their arguments. After a moment, she finally replied in a low, sullen voice, “I guess I don’t have any other choice.” Then she looked up, adding, “ _For now._ ” She kept her fiery gaze leveled on Emma as she sauntered toward her and said, “But don’t you dare mistake this temporary white flag as an olive branch between us, Miss Swan. We may share a love for Henry, but that’s as far as it goes.”

Emma just shrugged, holding her gaze. “Fine by me. I don’t wanna be best friends with you, either.”

Regina glared.

Henry just glanced between the two women, deeming the agreement sufficient as he shrugged and said, “Okay, so what do we do now?”

Regina closed her eyes momentarily, seemingly shifting out of confrontation mode as she looked down at the boy and told him simply but sternly, “Now you’re going to go to bed.”

  
**

"Thank you," Regina murmured as she closed Henry's door, being as quiet as possible.

Emma nodded. "Hated to agree with you," she said with a hint of a smirk, "But he does need his rest."

"He's been through a lot."

The two women met eyes, the other half of the statement unspoken: _and so have we._

Emma drew in a breath, huffing it out as she shoved her hands into her back pockets. "So now what?"

Regina shook her head slowly, deep in thought as she pursed her lips. Then she looked up. "First things first," she told her, and started down the stairs. "Follow me."

Reluctantly, Emma trudged down the stairs after the queen, following her into her study. It was there, just inside, that Regina poured them each a glass of scotch. Emma couldn't help but raise her brows in appreciation. "Good idea."

"Sit."

She did so while taking a long sip of the scotch, enjoying the slow burn as it slid down. Her eyes never moved from Regina's frame as she watched her head for her black chair, crossing one leg over the other. It reminded her very much of the start of their ‘war.’ Of the chess game that essentially got them into this entanglement.

She took another long pull of the scotch, her eyes meeting Regina’s over the rims of their glasses while she, too, took a drink. After enjoying another slow burn, she turned the glass in her hand, watching the liquid swirl. “You tried to kill me.”

Regina tilted her head, eyes cut to the side, contemplating. Slowly, she blinked, looking through her lashes at Emma. “I never wanted you dead,” she told her. “I just wanted you out of the way.”

“So it wasn’t real poison in that turnover.”

She shook her head, taking a drink. “No,” she said when she was through. “It was a curse.”

“A sleeping curse.”

Another nod, another drink of scotch, and Regina commented, “The same one I used on your mother.”

A strange pang hit Emma at the mention of her mother -- Mary Margaret or Snow White, she couldn’t keep anything straight today. “So I really am--”

“The product of true love?” Regina quirked an eyebrow. “Yes.” Her lip curled. “Disgusting, isn’t it?”

“Don’t know about that.” She took another drink, looking up to find Regina watching her closely with eyes narrowed.

“So you’re a true believer, then.”

Emma raised her brows. “I believe that the curse was real. I believe that you deliberately punished all of these people... over what, I don’t know and I don’t care to know. Whatever the reason, it’s petty now. And probably moot. But true love?” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Still seems a little far-fetched for me.”

“Then I guess there’s a second thing we share,” commented the queen with a slight smile, and the women locked eyes once more.

"You don't believe in it either?"

Regina swallowed another drink of scotch, voice hard and eyes averted as she muttered, "Not anymore."

And then the queen left with her glass of scotch, leaving Emma to her thoughts in the study.

 

**TBC**


	3. Unseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though they had called a temporary ceasefire, she still couldn’t trust Regina any further than she could throw her. So she’d loaded her gun -- the same one she tried to kill the dragon with -- and turned the safety on before she went up to bed.

*****

“Wake up!”

Emma was startled awake by the urgent hissing in her ear. “What, what is it?” She fumbled through half-open eyes for her safety-locked gun.

After Regina had left her in the study, Emma had finished her scotch while thinking things over. Though they had called a temporary ceasefire, she still couldn’t trust Regina any further than she could throw her. So she’d loaded her gun -- the same one she tried to kill the dragon with -- and turned the safety on before she went up to bed.

She had made a makeshift bed for herself on the floor of Henry’s room out of blankets and a spare pillow. Regina, predictably, hadn’t put forth even the slightest effort to offer her a suitable sleeping arrangement. So she’d had to make do.

“It’s morning.”

“Ugh.” Emma sank back against the floor again, against the pillow, loosening her grip on the gun. “Kid, don’t you sleep in ever? My head’s still spinning from yesterday.” Rather, from the scotch, but Henry didn’t need to know that.

“But _she’s_ up,” he told her, still whispering.

“So?”

The knock on the door was brief before it opened and in walked Regina, clad in a charcoal-gray robe over silk pajamas, all traces of makeup gone. “You’re up,” she addressed Henry.

“Hi.” He waved, though he was eying her as if she’d attack at any moment.

Emma watched her attempt a smile, though it was strained, as she extended a mug to her. “Some coffee, Miss Swan?”

“Thank you.” She blew on the steaming liquid, giving it a quick sniff. Then she glanced up at Regina through her lashes. “Almond?” She reminded herself that cyanide had a similar scent.

The polished veneer was still in place as Regina’s smile grew a bit and she corrected her, “Hazelnut.”

Emma exchanged a glance with her son as she took a sip. Once five seconds had passed and she hadn’t collapsed or begun convulsing, she concluded that the drink wasn’t tainted.

Regina tilted her head at her, as if able to read what was on her mind, and her robe swished as she sat on the foot of Henry’s bed. “I thought we could discuss a plan of action for today,” she said, leaning forward slightly.

“Like an operation?” Henry’s brows raised and his eyes lit. “I already have a name for it. It’s--”

“Henry,” both women chided him with sideways glances, meeting each other’s eyes briefly before averting them and taking simultaneous drinks of coffee.

After a moment, Regina cleared her throat. “You were right yesterday when you said that there would be people out to get me.”

Emma just looked at her expectantly.

“And, while I don’t expect you to shelter me, I would hope you and I could put our heads together to come up with a way of keeping Henry safe through all this.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” she asked, taking another sip of coffee. She hated to admit it, but Regina made a mean cup of coffee. Just strong enough to get rid of any leftover dizziness from the scotch.

“Well first I need to find out what exactly Rumplestiltskin did to bring the magic back.”

Henry frowned. “But if you leave, won’t people come after you as soon as they see you?”

Regina looked down into her mug. “Yes. Which is precisely why I can’t be seen.”

Emma mirrored her son’s expression of confusion. “Then... how are you gonna go out there without being seen?”

**

“This is ridiculous,” Emma huffed, glancing down at her feet.

A black cat with shiny fur wove between her legs, trotting in front of her. It made no noise, though she heard Regina’s voice in her head: _”I apologize, Miss Swan. If you’re more of a dog person, I can adjust my appearance.”_

She rolled her eyes, a hint of a smirk breaking through. “Don’t think it’s gonna matter what you ‘dress up’ as,” she told her, watching as the cat hopped up onto the hood of her Bug. “It’s still ridiculous.”

_”Perhaps, but this way I can’t be seen.”_

“So it’s better that I look like a complete idiot, talking to a cat?” She raised her eyebrows, opening the passenger side door and waiting for Regina to jump in.

The cat sat up regally in the passenger seat, its nose turned up in the air. _”We both will have to make sacrifices during this unholy alliance, Miss Swan,”_ she told her haughtily. _“Consider this your turn.”_

“If you say so,” she sighed, sliding into the driver’s seat. She threw a glance over at the cat and quipped, “Buckle up.”

The cat curled up on the passenger seat, seemingly throwing a glare at her. _”Very funny.”_

Emma smirked triumphantly, pulling out of the circular driveway with Henry watching them both from his window. His voice crackled over the walkie-talkie that remained stashed under her dashboard. “Operation Python is a go,” he told them, and she glimpsed at the cat.

Regina just gave a sniff, remaining curled on the passenger seat, as they headed into town.

Once they had turned off Regina’s street, Emma reached over and turned the walkie-talkie off. “So what are we looking for?”

The cat sat up once more, stretching languidly. _”Magic always leaves a trace.”_

“Like what?”

_”Depends on the spell, honestly.”_

Emma huffed, glaring at the black cat as it blinked its large eyes at her. “Wanna vague that up for me a little bit more?”

_”What I’m trying to say is that, if it’s a small spell, the trace of it will be nearly undetectable. But for powerful magic like this, it’s bound to leave behind something you can’t miss.”_

Emma suddenly ground to a halt, ignoring Regina’s indignant, _”Watch it!”_ as the cat slid off the seat and onto the floor.

“Like that?” She nodded out the windshield.

The cat hopped up, into her lap this time, bracing its front paws on the steering wheel and following her gaze. In the middle of the street was a bright violet streak. Not quite like paint, but more like a burn. Ash, maybe.

_”Yes. Like that."_

The cat’s tail anxiously twitched, flicking Emma’s nose and she made a face, “Ugh, Regina,” shoving it off her lap.

_”Sorry."_

Somehow, she got the impression that the queen wasn’t all that sorry. “What do you want me to do?”

_”See where it leads.”_

“Then sit tight,” she told her, speeding down the road alongside the streak of violet.

**

They were at the edge of Storybrooke, near the woods, when the trail veered off sharply. _”Pull over here,”_ Regina told her, and Emma swerved, pulling to a stop.

When she unbuckled her belt, she threw a glance at the cat, who was currently staring her down. She tilted her head. “What?”

_”Were you doing that intentionally to see if I could fall off the seat again, or are you truly that horrible a driver, Miss Swan?”_

Emma rolled her eyes. “Just get out of the car.”

She followed the streak into the woods, the cat prancing along at her heels. After what felt like an hour, they found themselves at the well -- the one that August had taken her to not long ago.

A pang hit her -- thoughts of August filled her head and she wondered where he was. Had he come back to life or was he still lying woodenly in his room at Granny’s?

_”Would you snap out of it?”_

“Huh? Sorry.”

_”I asked you to please lift me up so I can look into the well.”_

Emma stared at her dubiously. “You’re a cat. Just jump.”

The cat tilted its head, Regina’s tone patronizing. _”If I did that, I could fall, couldn’t I?”_

She raised her brows. “Well, sure. Guess I don’t see how that would be a bad thing, though.”

She was certain had Regina in the flesh been standing beside her, she would’ve gotten the death stare. Instead, the cat just flicked its tail. _”Just lift me.”_

With a resigned sigh, Emma bent down and scooped the cat into her arms, dropping it unceremoniously on the stone wellhead. When the cat hissed at her, she just smirked.

 _”This was where he put it_ ,” Regina said after a moment, her tone thoughtful.

“Put what?”

_”The vial. The true love potion. This was how he brought magic back.”_

Emma frowned, her hands on her hips contemplatively. “Huh.” She glanced down into the well. “August told me a few weeks ago that this well had magical properties.”

The cat jumped down suddenly, heading for the car. _”Let’s go.”_

She followed after it, feeling as though she had missed something. “That’s it? You turned yourself into a cat just so we could come all the way out here and look at a dingy old well?”

 _”I said_ let’s go, _Miss Swan.”_

Emma did as she was told and followed the cat back to the car, opening the door to allow it to jump onto the passenger seat again before she went around to the driver’s side. They drove back into town in silence, Emma continually stealing glances at the cat while it sat stiffly on the passenger seat, staring at the dashboard unmoving.

She wanted to question the sudden shift in her behavior, but... honestly, she was more in favor of Regina’s silence. They were halfway back to the mayor’s estate when she spotted a familiar pair walking along the sidewalk. The car screeched to a halt, and again Regina spat an indignant, _"Watch it!”_ before Emma climbed out of the car.

It was Mary-Margaret and David... or Snow White and Prince Charming, whoever the hell they were today. They spotted her easily, both sets of eyes wide.

“Emma?”

They ran to her, threw their arms around her... and she found herself smiling. The familiarity she’d always felt around Mary-Margaret finally had an explanation, as crazy as it was.

They pulled away, both of them staring in wonder at her. Emma glanced surreptitiously at the car before smiling back at them.

“You saved us,” Snow White murmured, joy all over her face.

The Prince chuckled, still gazing at Emma in wonder as he addressed his wife. “You never doubted she would, Snow.”

“I know, but it seems so long ago...”

Emma just studied these two, these misplaced royals that had been stuck in time for the last twenty-eight years. Her parents. “So you’re back to your old selves.”

“Thanks to you,” the Prince sighed, his arm around Snow White rubbing gently.

“Where have you been?” Snow asked. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you since the curse broke!”

“I, uh, I had to take Henry someplace safe.”

Charming shook his head. “Well, where?”

Emma paused, searching their eyes. “The mayor’s house.”

Immediately, their expressions were filled with alarm, and a bit of repressed anger. “But... Regina, she--”

“She’s gone,” Emma broke in, hoping her parents couldn’t read a lie as easily as she could. “She, uh... she must’ve taken off as soon as the curse broke.”

Snow White’s delicate features settled into a scowl. “I knew it. The coward.”

Emma glanced briefly over her shoulder, spotting the cat poking its head out the window of the car. She made a face briefly, an urgency there that she hoped Regina could still decipher in feline form.

“Well she can’t hide forever,” the Prince reasoned, voice low with certainty.

“You’re right,” Snow agreed, her nod resolute.

Emma watched as a glint hit her mother’s brown eyes, lips quirking in the hint of a smile.

“Don’t worry, Emma dear,” she told her, reaching out and touching Emma’s blonde curls. “Your father and I will find her. And when we do?”

Emma raised her eyebrows, watching the two of them expectantly.

Snow White’s smile was almost wicked as she finished her thought:

“Regina will pay dearly for what she’s done to us all. You can count on that.”

 

**TBC**


	4. Ignorance is Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I may have enacted that curse, but it was made by his hand.”

*****

Emma had been quick to head for the mayor’s house after her brief run-in with her parents, but not before Snow invited her to a town meeting, in which they were going to decide what to do about Regina.

She had accepted the invitation tentatively, explaining that she might need to keep an eye on Henry; then, after receiving another round of grateful hugs from the prince and princess, she made haste for the car.

She filled Regina in on the way back and was almost glad she couldn’t discern her expression in feline form. She didn’t want to know if she was plotting a counter-attack or not.

When they pulled up at the front of the house, both women were alarmed to see Henry sitting on the front stoop, clutching the walkie-talkie. “There you are!” he exclaimed.

“Henry, what the hell are you doing out here? It’s not safe.” Emma grabbed his arm, leading him in with the cat following behind them.

Once the door closed, a puff of black smoke concealed the cat and soon Regina had materialized in its place, alarmed eyes turned to Henry. “You could’ve been hurt! What were you doing?” She seized his other arm.

Henry looked between the two of them, clearly recognizing he’d made an unwise decision. “I just... you guys turned off the walkie-talkie.”

Regina huffed and spun away, running her hands through her hair. Emma watched her for a moment before turning to her son. “Henry, I’m sorry we did that, but that does _not_ make it okay for you to leave the house when we specifically told you not to.”

“I’ll try not to do it again,” he promised.

“No...” Regina spun back around, a bit of maternal severity in her eyes. “You _won’t_ do it again. Do you understand?”

Henry scowled and Emma could tell he was fighting with every bit of himself not to remind Regina that she wasn’t his real mother. But, keeping their peace treaty in mind, he just huffed, grumbling, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Emma told him softly, and she watched the boy look between the two of them, her eyes then settling on Regina.

Calm and composed now, Regina made her way to the kitchen. Emma glimpsed curiously at her son while he shrugged, both of them following her. It was there they watched her take out pots and pans from the cupboard, searching the pantry and overhead cabinets for something to make for lunch.

“Did you guys find anything?” Henry asked. “For Operation Python?”

“We went to the well,” Emma told him. “We think that’s where Gold--” she corrected herself, “Rumplestiltskin, whatever... released the magic.” A thought struck her, and she glanced up at Regina. “Why did you make me leave so fast?”

“I was concerned about Henry,” Regina replied calmly, though there was a hint of a quaver in her tone.

Emma made a mental note to ask about it later.

“Are you going to that meeting?” Regina asked, raising her brows.

“I suppose I should,” she sighed, shoving her hands in her pockets.

Henry made a face, arms crossed on the countertop while he sat on the barstool. “What meeting?”

“It’s nothing,” she told him, meeting Regina’s gaze. “I’ll just need to leave for a little while tonight. You’ll stay here with Regina.”

“What? You can’t do that! You can’t leave me here with her!”

She spotted a flash in the mayor’s eyes and wasn’t certain if it was anger or hurt.

Either way, Emma chided the boy. “Henry, knock it off. She’s taken care of you for the last ten years of your life. Whether you wanna believe it or not, that time was important to her.” She glanced at Regina. “Still is, probably.”

“Yes,” she murmured, head bowed while she worked on a sandwich, but the tone was enough to convince her.

“So you’re gonna stay here with Regina,” she confirmed with a definitive nod. “And I’m gonna go find out what’s going on.”

**

Not long after lunch, Henry went up to his room to read his comic books, thus affording Emma a little time to get as much information as she could from Regina.

She was out in the backyard when she found her, sipping at a glass of iced tea while she sat on a bench facing her apple tree. Or... what used to be her apple tree.

Emma couldn’t help but cringe at the sight of it now. The apples were rotten and the branches sagged, the bark now an ashen, dead color. “Is that--”

“A result of the curse breaking? Yes,” Regina answered.

For reasons unknown, Emma found herself apologizing. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for? You should be proud, Miss Swan. You’ve restored the natural order of things. You did what you came here to do.”

A bit of that familiar tension had inserted itself between them and Emma couldn’t help but get her hackles up. “This was the last thing I came here to do. I just wanted to make sure Henry was being taken care of.”

“Yes, so you’ve said.” Slowly, Regina stood, gently setting her glass down as she made her way toward the apple tree. There was still a missing branch and Emma remembered vividly the mixture of adrenaline and rage that had caused her to saw it off.

Regina reached up and picked an apple, her lip curling in distaste as she held it up in the palm of her hand, turning it this way and that to examine it.

Emma took a few steps toward her. “Believe me, if I could go back to being totally clueless about all this curse stuff, I would.”

“Mm,” she hummed shortly, tossing the apple aside. “Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.” Her lips quirked just a bit.

Emma found herself smirking. “Yeah, and I’d give anything to be ignorant right now.”

Surprisingly, Regina cracked a smirk. She pulled another apple down and tossed it aside, then did so with another three... seemingly purging the dying tree of its rotten fruit. “You know, when you first came here I thought you were going to take Henry from me,” she commented.

Emma fought a reply, somehow knowing Regina just needed to walk through some thought process.

“I was upset. Jealous, I suppose... and angry.” She sighed. “I had spent ten years of his life doting on him, caring for him, and then there you are -- his _real_ mother -- not the charity case I always imagined you would be.”

Unsure if that was a compliment or insult, Emma just accepted the thinly-veiled comment as it was, choosing not to question further.

“Up strolled this put-together, beautiful young woman, who already had a bond with my son after just a couple hours, and... I lost all common sense.”

Emma dipped her head. “If I ever gave you the impression that I was going to take him away from you, I--”

Regina dismissed it with a shake of her head, pulling another rotten apple off the tree. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

“Guess not.” She studied the queen.

A long silence passed in which Regina studiously cleaned up the apples and Emma watched her, before she spoke. “Regina, that well... out in the woods...”

She received no verbal response though Regina’s spine stiffened, back turned as she cleaned up the apples.

“August... he told me once that it had magical properties.”

“It can return that which has been lost,” Regina murmured, flicking her bangs out of her eyes as she stood.

“Which means... what?”

Regina shook her head. “Anything. I-I don’t know. Like I said yesterday, magic is unpredictable here." As an afterthought, she added, " _He_ knows.”

Emma nodded knowingly. “And my guess is, he won’t be willing to share that information.”

“Not as long as I’m alive, no. As long as I’m alive, there’s still a threat against his power. So any knowledge he has, he’s going to play it close to the vest.” Shaking her head, Regina huffed, planting her hands on her hips as she looked down at the pile of rotten apples. “But maybe I’m not even a threat to him.”

“What do you mean?”

She met her eyes, taking a few steps toward her. “Think about it. It all goes back to him. The curse - I got it from him. He created the loophole in it, he’s the one that made you the savior." She shook her head. "I may have enacted that curse, but it was made by his hand.”

“So then I think I need you to be honest with me here, Regina. Now that I’ve broken this curse and he’s got his magic back... now that he’s no longer behind bars, what are we up against?”

Regina’s forehead creased with worry. Her teeth bit down softly on her bottom lip and Emma watched the motion ever so briefly before meeting the mayor's eyes again.

“Honestly?” She shrugged. “I have no idea. But whatever it is, it’s not just coming for me."

Emma's stomach dropped. "It's not?"

Regina shook her head. "It's coming for us all."

 

**TBC**


	5. The Root of All Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumplestiltskin strode in confidently, his cane seemingly no longer a necessity but an accessory. “Now is the time for us to work together, to right the wrongdoing the Queen has committed against us all.”

*****

Emma stepped into City Hall, immediately greeted by the sounds of the over-zealous citizens of Storybrooke. Or... whatever land they had come from. The chatter was excitable, and fraught with a crackling energy she could only think to describe as vengeful.

She searched the crowd for her parents but couldn’t find them. Then a microphone somewhere behind her screeched its feedback and she turned to find Snow and Charming at the podium, banded together as one. Inseparable.

And completely clueless to who the real enemy was, she couldn’t help but think.

“Everybody?” Snow White called, and a hush fell over the crowd. “If you could please take your seats, thank you.”

Folding chairs scraped against tile as the citizens obeyed and sat down, perfectly silent and expectantly watching the prince and princess.

The prince leaned toward the microphone next and said, “First off, we’d like to thank you all for coming. I know the past twenty-four hours have been... quite confusing.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd and Emma raised her brows, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the far back wall, out of view.

“As you may or may not know, we all have been the victims of a powerful curse,” Snow White intoned, voice strong and sure. “A curse enacted by my stepmother.”

And created by Rumplestiltskin, Emma added silently.

“This curse took us from our homes and effectively imprisoned us here, devoid of our happiness,” said the prince, “Devoid of the knowledge of who we really were.”

Emma surveyed the crowd, watching some of the citizens nod solemnly, while others looked around in confusion.

Snow White smiled. “But the Queen has failed in her attempt to take away our happiness. Because our child,” she beamed at her husband, “Our daughter, Emma, came to Storybrooke, to save us.”

“How did she do that?” One of the citizens toward the back called out.

Snow and Charming exchanged a glance, then the prince leaned toward the mic. “We were told that our daughter, on her 28th birthday, would come to our rescue. That she would be the key to breaking the curse.”

“Who told you this?” asked another of the citizens, this one off to the far left.

Another glance was exchanged by the prince and princess, though this one was solemn... almost grim. Snow leaned toward the mic again and, almost hesitantly, she answered, “We were told by... by Rumplestiltskin.”

A shocked murmur swept through the crowd. Some looked as though they already had this information, while others looked fearful and surprised.

Snow and Charming attempted to get the crowd under control, but to no avail. Emma’s head turned when Granny got to her feet, stuck two fingers between her lips and gave one shrill, sharp whistle, rendering everyone silent. She glanced around at them sternly before nodding to the prince and princess.

Snow White smiled her gratitude, then continued. “We-we know that... Rumplestiltskin hasn’t always been the most reliable source. But where this was concerned, he was truthful. We have to give him that. Our daughter broke the curse, just as he said she would.” She smiled at her husband. “The former Queen has failed.”

Her expression hardened, then; determination took over. “And now that the curse is broken, it is time for us to band together. She must pay for what she has done to us.”

Emma’s stomach churned, and she rested a hand over it unconsciously. She couldn’t deny that they had a point. Regina had imprisoned them in a timeless, dreary town for almost thirty years. If it were her, she would want revenge as well. But... their need for vengeance seemed a little misguided. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had a feeling that Regina didn’t pose much of a threat to them any longer. She recalled their conversation by the rotting apple tree. Regina seemed resigned to her loss. And Emma had grown rather accustomed to Regina’s moods; could read them easily, in fact, and it seemed as though Regina had no inclination to formulate a counter-attack. Or another curse.

In fact, she seemed almost afraid of what Rumplestiltskin could do. If he could create a curse that powerful, and have enough foresight to create the loophole that he did...

“I agree,” a new voice joined in, the doors at the back of City Hall creaking open. Chairs shifted on tile as everyone turned to look at Mr. Gold... Rumplestiltskin.

He strode in confidently, his cane seemingly no longer a necessity but an accessory. “Now is the time for us to work together, to right the wrongdoing the Queen has committed against us all.”

Emma seethed silently, wishing to step forward and beat him with his own cane, but at the same time not wanting him to know she was there.

Everyone kept their wary eyes on him, even Snow White and Charming who, to an extent, had just been singing his praises.

He stopped in the middle of the aisle, halfway between the stage and the doors, his cane in front of him and both hands braced on it. “It is true that I knew about the flaw in the curse. That their child,” he gestured to Snow and Charming with an upturned palm, “Would be the product of true love that could save us all.”

Emma clenched her jaw, stepping further into the shadows at the back of the hall. Why don’t you tell them that you created the damn curse too, you bastard, she thought venomously.

“And now, I come to you bearing some bad news.” He dipped his head for effect. “It seems there is a new threat to our happiness.”

Emma’s eyes flicked toward her parents, who immediately reached for each other in concern. He had them right in the palm of his hand.

Pausing, Rumplestiltskin lifted his head with a grave expression. He looked slowly around at them all before he reported, “The Queen has brought magic to Storybrooke.” The numerous gasps didn’t deter him as he added, “Powerful magic.”

The prince and princess stepped down off the stage, some of the other citizens rising to their feet as all eyes remained on Rumplestiltskin.

He kept weaving his tale. “I believe she is going to use this magic to create a new curse. One more powerful than the last. And I can tell you that this time... she will take measures to ensure that there will be no savior. No return to happy endings.”

“What do we do?” Charming asked, his voice low as Snow White hung on to his arm.

Emma watched as Rumplestiltskin smiled. “It’s simple, dearie. We must find the Queen... and kill her.”

_”No!”_

She slapped a hand over her mouth, surprised the exclamation had left her lips, as every head in City Hall turned toward the sound. Regretfully, Emma stepped out of the shadows, throwing a surreptitious glance at her parents, who seemed to forget the imminent danger they were presented with as they beamed at her.

“Emma...”

She swallowed hard, steeling herself. She pointed a finger at Rumplestiltskin, her voice low, gravelly... but determined. “Do not listen to him.”

“What?” Snow White tilted her head. “Why not?”

Emma glared at Rumplestiltskin, teeth clenched. “Tell them the truth.”

He smiled, unperturbed by her vitriol. “I just did, my dear. You must have arrived late.”

“No.” She shook her head, striding toward the stage and fighting the urge to knock him to the ground as she passed. “No, no. Everybody listen to me.”

She stepped up behind the podium and tapped once on the microphone, cringing briefly at the feedback before leaning in. “Everybody, please take your seats. I have something that I need to say.”

Confused, they did so, some sets of eyes bouncing from the prince and princess, to Rumplestiltskin, then to Emma and back again. She looked around at them all. Victims, definitely victims... but completely unaware that a wolf in sheep’s clothing was in their midst.

“This man,” she pointed to Rumplestiltskin, “Knew about the curse, and knew about the loophole, because _he_ created it.” She ignored the sporadic gasps and kept her eyes trained on Rumplestiltskin. “He’s the one that gave the curse to Regina and told her how to cast it. And now, he is lying to you about her.” She shook her head. “She’s no threat to you! She lost and she can’t do anything to you. But he can.” She glared at him. “ _He_ brought magic back.”

Rumplestiltskin bowed his head, eyes closed for only a moment before he bared his teeth and yelled, “STOP!”

As he did, he banged the end of his cane into the hardwood floor and sent a purple pulse shuddering out across the floor, and time seemed to freeze. Everyone was stopped in their tracks -- some of them in the midst of a shout or a gasp, others in the middle of standing up. It was as if someone had hit a pause button on the citizens of Storybrooke.

Emma, somehow unaffected, looked around at all of them before turning to Rumplestiltskin, who had started toward her. “You’d better think about what you’re doing, dearie... what you’re saying.”

She glared. “Regina may have punished these people for the last twenty-eight years, but I know that that sure as hell isn’t even going to _touch_ whatever it is you’re about to do to them.”

He tilted his head. “That’s rather hurtful, Miss Swan.” Then, he raised his brows. “Had a change of heart, have you? Perhaps Regina cast a spell on you.”

“Regina has done nothing to me.” Stepping out from behind the podium, she walked down the steps off the edge of the stage.

“Did she, or did she not, attempt to poison you?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

She faltered ever so briefly. “She did, but--”

“And in that attempt,” he cut her off, “Did she or did she not almost kill your son?”

She folded her arms across her chest.

Rumplestiltskin nodded, deeming his questions answered. “You see, dear, I am not the villain in this story. Regina is. Always was, as a matter of fact.”

Emma shook her head, keeping her eyes on him. “I don’t buy it,” she returned, a hint of a sly smirk plucking at her lips. “You overpowered her and tied her up. You tricked me into thinking she had left me to be killed by that dragon--”

“Which you didn’t hesitate to believe, might I add,” he broke in.

“Yeah. Maybe I believed it then. But you know what I believe now?” She stepped close, no further than a foot from him now as she leaned in. “I believe you are the root of all this evil. And I believe you are the one that’s going to make everyone suffer with no way out.” She shrugged. “Why else would you go through all that trouble to bring magic back?”

His smile spread slowly, a pleased glint in his eye as his voice dropped to whisper, “Well I guess you’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”

Emma narrowed her eyes, suppressing a smile. And the urge to beat him to death with that stupid cane. “Guess so.”

“You’d best get home then, dearie. Warn your new best friend. See if she’ll be willing to protect you after all that’s happened. And then?” His smile widened, eyes flicking over her. “You’d better hope you’ve chosen the right side. For your sake, and your boy’s.”

He waved her away, tone patronizing and low. “Run now, Baby Charming. Time’s a-wasting.”

“And them?” She raised her eyebrows, gesturing to the crowd of people behind them, still frozen in place.

“Oh, don’t you worry about them. They won’t remember that little outburst of yours when I wake them up. Won’t even remember that you were here at all. All they’ll remember is their thirst for revenge... and that your pal Regina is still on the loose with her magic.”

Emma hesitated, wanting to stay and reprise her outburst, though part of her was already defeated. She knew he would just keep freezing them and making them forget. So instead, she let him have this small victory and turned to head for the doors. She pushed them open and stopped when she heard his call:

“Oh, and Miss Swan?”

She turned to face him, to face the smug look on his face as he grinned a bit and whispered, “Good luck.”

 

**TBC**


	6. Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was getting close to something, here, and wanted to continue digging. But she knew that for now, she had pushed too far. Regina had thrown up the walls again.

*****

Regina stood at the open front door, concern on her face. “What happened?”

“Where’s Henry?” Emma asked abruptly, striding purposefully up the walk and past Regina.

Regina frowned in confusion, her body twisting to follow. “He’s asleep.”

“Good.”

The door closed in their wake and without preamble, Emma walked right to the study and poured a bit of scotch in a glass, gulping it down and wincing briefly at the burn it left behind.

“What are you doing?”

“Here,” Emma grumbled, shoving a second tumbler of scotch into Regina’s hands. “You’re gonna need it.”

Regina took a sip, eying her.

Emma took a breath, holding the queen’s gaze as she huffed it out and told her, “He’s got them on his side. All of them.”

Her eyes flashed fire and she looked away, muttering, “I knew it,” while swirling the scotch glass at her side.

Emma watched her pace around the study, every movement graceful... almost calculated. Regina’s eyes were everywhere but on her and she found herself wanting to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

She decided to push that fleeting want away with another gulp of scotch.

Finally, Regina spun to face her, one hand on her hip while the other clutched the glass white-knuckled. “Tell me what happened.”

Emma sighed. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Here.” A smile came to her lips, almost catlike, as she stepped close, invading her personal space.

Emma watched her with wide, cautious eyes as Regina reached out and took the glass from her hand, setting it on the nearby table.

“I’d like to do something, Miss Swan. A bit bold, but it might prove helpful.”

She wondered why her heart was slamming in her chest as Regina came even closer. “Uh...” Unfortunately, she was left with only unintelligible words. That scotch was strong. “Alright.”

Another smile curled her lips. “Good.”

She reached out with both hands, looking as though she was going to cup Emma’s face. Emma startled at this, her heart beating double-time as she asked anxiously, “What are you doing?”

But Regina just smiled, as if that would reassure her. “You’ll see.”

Her fingertips touched the sides of her head, just behind her temples. Then Emma felt a warmth and a burst of pressure... like a vise tightening around her head. Like Regina was actually reaching _into_ her head on each side.

She cried out in pain, jaw going slack, and she looked to Regina. A glow reflected from whatever it was she was doing, lighting up her face, and her smile was still catlike.

Emma groaned, closing her eyes as the pressure increased. “Regina... that hurts...”

“Don’t worry, dear, it’ll only be another second,” she cooed, and Emma wondered if that was her ‘evil stepmother’ voice or something else entirely.

And then the pain began to diminish. Her head felt less and less like it was going to cave in, and Regina’s smile turned to one of satisfaction as she pulled her hands from Emma’s head, drawing out a glowing blue ball of energy.

Emma stared at it in disbelief. “What the hell is that?”

Regina didn’t answer. Instead, she kept her eyes on that glowing ball of energy as she made her way over to a round mirror against the far wall. She held the ball up in front of it and then blew at it... like blowing a kiss... and the ball floated on its own toward the mirror.

When it hit the glass, the mirror rippled as if she had dropped a pebble in a pond. Emma stepped up behind Regina and soon they could both see what Emma had seen earlier at City Hall. Every bit of it from her entrance, to Snow and Charming taking the podium, to Rumplestiltskin’s abrupt appearance.

She also saw what had happened when he froze time briefly, and they had their terse exchange. Emma alternated between watching the mirror and watching Regina’s reaction, noticing how her jaw clenched more and more with each passing second.

When it was over, the mirror rippled once more and then returned to normal. Regina stood still, just staring at their reflection while Emma stared at her.

“Did you just... yank a memory out of my head?”

“I borrowed it,” Regina muttered, still looking deep in thought.

Before Emma could question her further, the queen was on the move. Emma couldn’t help but follow, part of her fascinated. “So? Was it helpful?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

Emma followed her down into the basement, into a closed-off room, barren except for a cobweb-covered stack of books. “So... so what--”

“You’re right,” she cut her off. “He’s planning something.”

“Well... yeah. Do you know what?”

“No. But whatever it is, it’s going to be something we can’t even fathom. And your precious parents will be playing right into his willing hands.” Cutting her gaze to the side, she seethed through clenched teeth, “Simple fools.”

“Hey,” Emma returned with a frown.

A thought struck her after a beat or two, and she folded her arms. “So, let me ask an obvious question here before you start...” she gestured vaguely toward the books, “Whatever it is you’re about to start.”

“What?” Regina huffed, mirroring her position.

Emma narrowed her eyes briefly. “What do you have against them, anyway?”

Regina rolled her eyes, clenching her jaw again. After a moment it became clear that she wasn’t about to offer up any explanations.

Emma sighed and shrugged. “Fine. I’m gonna drag it out of you eventually.”

“Your ambition is admirable, Miss Swan, but ultimately futile.”

“Look,” she held up her hands. “I’m sure it’s complicated. And it must be something pretty huge for you to want to punish everybody, for almost thirty years, just to get revenge on two people.”

Regina dipped her head, muttering, “One.”

“What?”

She looked up, her brown eyes piercing. “One,” she ground out again, leaning on the stack of books. “ _One_ person. I did all of this to get back at _your_ mother. She ruined my life.”

Emma raised her brows, partly surprised she had been offered even that much information. “Okay. What did she do?”

“Forget it.”

“Regina, for God sakes, it’s over!” She raised her voice, throwing her hands up in the air and letting them fall to her sides again. “Whatever happened, you got her back.”

“No I didn’t!”

Emma took a step back, momentarily surprised by the sound of Regina’s voice breaking.

When the queen looked up, it was with tear-filled eyes that she ground out shakily, “She took away my happiness. A kind that I can never have back. But her? She has her happiness again.” She snarled, “Her _Charming_. So no, I didn’t get her back.”

Emma absorbed that silently for a moment, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Regina’s. Another piece fell into place. She already knew Regina wasn’t completely unfeeling -- she learned as much back at the hospital with Henry’s life hanging in the balance. But it now seemed as though Regina’s vengeful side stemmed from a major loss.

“What did she do to you?” she whispered, attempting to rein in the brief pang of sympathy that swept over her.

But as soon as the mood shift had come on, Regina had it under control. The tears were gone and she flicked her hair out of her eyes with the back of her finger, composed once more. “That’s not important right now,” she said, voice almost overly calm. “Right now, all you need to know is that Rumplestiltskin is planning something. Something that will have no loophole this time. No Savior, no way out.”

Emma searched her eyes. “So what do we do?”

“First things first.”

She raised her eyebrows hopefully. “More drinking?”

Regina suppressed a smirk at that, grabbing one of the larger, leather-bound tomes off the stack and motioning for Emma to follow her. “More protection,” she replied.

“I have a gun.”

“Mm.” She shook her head. “Won’t do you much good up against magic, Miss Swan.”

Emma tilted her head, silently conceding that Regina was right about that much -- the gun hadn’t done a damn thing to slow that dragon down, after all. “So what kind of protection do we need?”

“Well, we need to protect against magic, _with_ magic.”

Regina led her through dark cavernous tunnels in the basement, and Emma had to wonder just how exactly the mayor landed a house with underground catacombs, practically.

“So, some sort of a... protection spell?”

“Now you’re catching on.”

They ended up in a room lit by a single, dangling light bulb, lined on each side with tall shelves of small, square cubbies. In each was an object encased in glass, whether it was a vial, a flask or a bottle. Emma surveyed them all, eying Regina suspiciously. “If you had all this stuff here the whole time, why haven’t you used it before?”

“Without magic, these ingredients are completely useless,” she explained. And then she shrugged. “I just... hung on to them for safekeeping.” She smiled, though the smile was thin and a bit facetious. “Just in case.”

“I see...” Emma continued to glance around warily, hands on her hips. “And, uh, does ‘Mr. Gold’ have this stuff too?”

Regina’s brows flicked upward as she read over one page of her book, her finger tracing down the list of ingredients before she started grabbing at various vials and bottles. “I wouldn’t doubt he has much, much more than this.” Sighing, she pocketed a small vial of some sort of silver liquid as she commented, “He was imbibed with a dark magic that I can’t even begin to understand.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well how did you get _your_ magic?” Emma asked, shifting on her feet and furrowing her brows curiously, hands still on her hips.

She watched Regina’s spine straighten, watched her tense up. A long moment passed in which Emma just watched her back before Regina just barely turned over her shoulder and replied lowly, “My mother.”

“Oh.” Emma frowned. “Well, how did she--”

“That’s enough with the questions for tonight,” Regina cut her off, slamming her hands down on the open pages of the large tome. “Let’s just... focus on the spell.”

Emma agreed, a bit hesitantly, as she kept her eyes cemented on the fallen queen. She was getting close to something, here, and wanted to continue digging. But she knew that for now, she had pushed too far. Regina had thrown up the walls again. So rather than press further, she gave the queen her space, and watched her silently as she gathered ingredients for the spell.

**

When every ingredient was found and thrown together, and Regina had enough time to read over her book of spells, she directed Emma outside. They peered around cautiously and, once they ascertained they were alone, they began.

“Hold out your hand,” Regina told her as they faced each other, and Emma eyed the slight upward tilt at the corners of her lips curiously, though she did as she was told.

She grimaced as Regina emptied the contents of a small vial of liquid into her cupped palm. “Can’t you just do this yourself and I can watch?”

“I’ve never performed this sort of spell before, Miss Swan, so I’d appreciate your assistance.”

She huffed. “Fine.”

Emma watched, then, as the silver liquid in her hand began to glow. It began to turn and spread out slowly, as if being stirred by some unseen force. It glittered as it moved and Emma found herself almost entranced by the sight. It was like staring at a galaxy. “Whoa...”

She felt, without seeing, Regina’s smile as she told her, “Some magic can be quite beautiful.”

Without moving her head, she lifted her eyes to meet Regina’s, watching the smile fade from her face as she added, “And other kinds are... horrific.”

Regina lowered her hand over the glowing, glittering liquid, bringing her fingers together in a closing-flower motion before drawing her hand upward. The liquid seemed to follow the movement, curling and twisting as it stretched upward. Regina’s hand became the direction the liquid followed, and she began to form an arc with it.

“Give me your other hand,” she told her, and Emma obeyed, still almost hypnotized by the motion of the silver liquid.

Regina’s hand was upturned expectantly, and Emma cupped her other palm, laying it in Regina’s hand. She felt Regina grasp it and in an instant, she was assaulted with several flashes -- a young man in a stable, a little girl on a runaway horse, and an older woman in a black cloak holding a glowing red heart in her hand, followed by a young Regina with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Then the flash was gone and Emma gasped and jumped back momentarily, surprised to note that Regina had done the same. They stared at each other wide-eyed for a moment, and then all at once Regina was her composed, stoic self again, instructing her a bit more harshly, “Your hand, Miss Swan.”

Emma was still attempting to get her breathing under control, able to hear her heartbeat in her ears as she again held out her cupped palm. This time, Regina did not touch her, and instead focused on directing the flow of the silver liquid, creating an arc from Emma’s right hand to her left.

Emma kept glimpsing from the liquid to Regina, hoping to get at least a hint as to what had just happened between them, a hint as to what exactly she’d seen in that split-second.

But Regina’s face betrayed nothing, all of her focus on the spell at hand. Ingredients were dropped into, and absorbed by, the silver liquid. It changed colors several times before going back to its original hue.

Soon, the arc was growing. The liquid began to spin so quickly it created a sheer, shimmering bubble around them. With her hands, Regina stretched it taller and taller still, until it reached well over the top of the estate. Then she spread it just as far around the house, until it touched the fences on each side and the sidewalk near the street.

Emma craned her neck, watching the shimmering bubble high over their heads as it encompassed their surroundings. Then, with a flourish of Regina’s hands, the bubble dissipated. The shimmer remained a moment longer and then faded until everything around them had gone back to normal.

Emma glanced down at her hands and saw nothing left. She looked at Regina. “It’s done?”

Regina nodded, once, face drawn and shuttered. “It’s done.”

“How do we know it’s working if we can’t see it?”

Regina smiled briefly, that polished veneer of a smile, then bent down and grabbed a rock from her landscaping. She held it up as if to show Emma it was to be an example, before she threw it toward the street. Just before it reached the sidewalk, a burst of shimmering light surrounded it and seemingly bounced the rock back.

It landed at their feet and Emma looked down at it before meeting Regina’s gaze once more.

She simply quirked an eyebrow, lips pursed. “I’d say it works.” Then she turned and went inside without another word.

Emma remained on the stoop, contemplating everything that had just happened, along with her sanity. She just helped Regina cast a spell. She helped the _evil queen_ cast a spell.

Not only that, but when they touched hands, she got flashes of what could possibly have been memories. It was that thought that got her feet moving again, propelling her toward the door, which she closed behind her.

Regina lingered in her office, pouring herself another drink, and Emma wondered if she would allow her to join in again or if she had truly shut down for the night.

“Goodnight, Miss Swan,” Regina called distantly, and Emma nodded once in understanding.

Yep, she had shut down. So rather than protest, Emma climbed the stairs. She poked her head in to Henry’s room briefly and spotted the pillows and blankets she’d used the night before. Then, she threw a glance over her shoulder, down toward the foyer and the study where Regina remained, before she headed purposefully for the master bedroom.

“Be damned if I’m gonna sleep on the floor again,” she muttered to herself, making herself comfortable in the king sized bed.

She tossed her pants aside and stripped down to her tank top and underwear, her usual bedtime attire. Then she slipped between the silk sheets, sighing at the comfort before settling back against the pillows. As a final bit of ‘payback,’ she grabbed Regina’s silk eye shades from the night table and slipped them on, smiling to herself before turning out the light.

It wasn’t long before she heard Regina’s footfalls on the stairs. She listened to her pause briefly at the top of the stairs... possibly checking on Henry just as she had done... before the footsteps continued toward the master bedroom. She pushed the door open and Emma lifted one side of the eye shades to catch her outline in the doorway.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

Smirking, Emma threw Regina’s words from earlier back at her. “We both have to make sacrifices in this unholy alliance. Consider this your turn.”

Regina remained silhouetted by the hall light and folded her arms, confrontational. “If you think I’m going to let you commandeer _my_ bed for the night--”

Emma pushed herself up on one elbow, gesturing to the empty side with her free hand. “There’s a whole other side there for you if you’re not too stubborn.”

Regina was silent, and Emma figured she was receiving quite the death glare. A long moment passed and finally she heard a resigned sigh from the doorway, followed by the sharp click of Regina’s heels on the hardwood floor. She first turned the hall light off, then went to the lamp on the bedside table and flicked it on, fixating that glare straight at Emma. “How do you know I won’t just turn you into a toad in your sleep?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t.” Then she gestured to her gun, sitting near the bay window with her rumpled clothes. “How do you know I won’t shoot _you_ in _your_ sleep?”

Regina frowned. “I don’t.”

“Exactly. But... we both need to make sure Henry stays safe. So let’s save the killing-each-other-in-our-sleep thing for when we’re _not_ in danger.” She raised her eyebrows. “Deal?”

“Fine.” Regina fluffed the pillows on her side of the bed and disappeared into her walk-in closet for a moment, emerging in long silk pajamas, just a shade or two darker than her sheets. “I suppose we can call that rule number one.”

Emma raised her brows, smirking her amusement. “Was there another I should be aware of?”

“Yes, Miss Swan, there was.” Regina sat down on her side of the bed, pushing the sheet and comforter back before throwing a glare over her shoulder, eyes narrowed sharply. “Don’t hog the covers.”

Emma rolled her eyes, “Yes, _Your Majesty_ ,” she returned, and turned on her side facing away, while Regina turned out the light.

 

**TBC**


	7. Formalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So... are we gonna talk about last night at all?”

*****

Emma awoke to the sound of birds chirping just outside the window, almost overly-musical. Her vision was dark even when she opened her eyes, and it took her a moment to register the fact that she had fallen asleep wearing Regina’s eyeshades. Grunting sleepily, she pushed herself up on one elbow and lifted the eyeshades off with one hand.

She was facing the night table, and her gaze immediately settled on the steaming cup of coffee waiting there for her. Emma smiled to herself, the scent of hazelnut reaching her. It wasn’t hot cocoa with cinnamon, but she could get used to it. Then, as if realizing all at once what she was smiling about, she quickly schooled her features and set the mug down, reaching for her pants.

Once she had dressed, she took the mug with her downstairs, able to hear Regina chiding Henry to stop playing with his food.

“Morning,” she greeted.

They were at the table in the dining room. Henry was pushing pieces of a waffle around in the syrup on his plate, drawing with it practically, while Regina read the paper.

“Good morning, Miss Swan,” she was greeted cordially. “I trust you slept well last night?”

Emma smirked, catching Regina’s eyes over their respective mugs of coffee. There was a slight upward tilt to the queen’s lips and she smirked all the wider at it.

“Yeah, really well. Thanks. That’s a ridiculously comfortable mattress.”

Henry glanced up, looking between them in confusion before he addressed Emma. “You slept in her bed?!”

Emma caught herself, feeling a Freudian slip had just escaped though there had been nothing subtextual about her invasion of Regina’s space. “Uh... yeah. She was still up and I was tired, so...” She trailed off, hoping that would suffice.

But she knew Henry better than that. Inquisitively, he turned to Regina. “Then where did _you_ sleep?”

Regina kept her eyes on the paper, lips pursed as she cleared her throat and replied shortly, “Elsewhere.” Then without allowing for a beat, she glanced up and asked her son, “Are you finished with your waffles, or will you be painting with them all day?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m done.”

“Very well. You know what’s next, then.”

The boy nodded, “Yep, dishes,” and gathered up his plate, glass and fork before taking them into the kitchen.

Emma raised her brows appreciatively. “He still listens to you. That’s a good sign.”

Regina never moved her eyes from the newspaper, pausing briefly to turn the page. “At this point, he’s probably just afraid I’ll do something terrible to him if he doesn’t.”

She frowned thoughtfully at that and shrugged one shoulder. Seemed accurate enough. Then, she leaned back in her chair. “So... are we gonna talk about last night at all?”

Regina spluttered, in the middle of a sip of coffee, and set the mug down hard on the table. Some of the liquid sloshed up around the sides. “What do you mean?”

Emma stared in surprise for a moment, wondering where that sudden burst of nervousness had come from in this normally cool and composed woman. Then, she tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. “Uh... I mean, when we did that spell.”

“Oh.”

Again, she watched Regina curiously. Her chest seemed to heave for a moment and there was immense relief in her tone. Had she caught the queen off-guard? “Yeah. So... when you grabbed my hand, I saw something.”

“Really.” Regina’s tone was still a bit tremulous, and she wasn’t meeting her eyes as she grabbed her coffee mug and studiously wiped off the droplets of spilled coffee with her napkin.

“Yeah. I thought maybe...” She leaned on the surface of the table with her folded arms, crossing her legs at the ankle, “They were your memories or something.”

Regina sighed, training her efforts on the small puddle of spilled coffee on the black polished table. All the while, Emma read her body language, trying to ascertain just what exactly she was nervous about.

“Why do you think they’re my memories, Miss Swan?”

Emma closed her eyes briefly, holding up a hand to stop her. “Okay, before we go any further,” she met Regina’s gaze, “Why don’t we drop the whole ‘Miss Swan’ formality act.” She raised her brows. “Okay? We’re... we’re working together, sort of.” She exhaled the briefest of chuckles as she added, “Hell, we’re kinda roommates at this point. Let’s just call each other by our first names.”

Regina nodded. “Very well, then.” She met her eyes as she corrected herself, “ _Emma_.”

She felt an unusual mix of a pang and a shiver at the sound but shoved it away. “There. Much easier.”

“So, _Emma_ \--”

There went the unusual shiver again...

“What on Earth gave you the idea that what you saw during the spell were my memories?”

“Because you were there.” Furrowing her brows, she hoped she wasn’t insane. “You saw them too, didn’t you?”

Regina looked down for a long moment, her erratic cleaning having stopped, before she replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She narrowed her eyes sharply at the brunette, wondering if she’d forgotten her “super power” already.

But she didn’t have a chance to pry further as Henry came back into the room, practically tackling her for a hug. “Day three of Operation Python?” he asked.

“Not exactly.” Emma’s eyes were still on Regina, still trying to get through to her, but to no avail. The queen had thrown the barriers up once more, so she sighed and wrapped her arms around her son. “Today I thought we might pay a visit to your, uh... grandparents.”

His eyes lit up. “Really? Cool!”

“Why?” Regina asked, a hint of suspicion in her tone.

“Well,” Emma quirked a brow, “I’d sure like to get an idea of what else Gold threw into their heads at that meeting last night.”

“Smart.”

Emma nodded, leaving out the silent part of her plan, which was to try to get information from Snow White about what exactly had spurred Regina toward the need to curse everybody.

“Why?” Henry asked curiously. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” she exhaled, but didn’t feel like elaborating further. The less Henry knew about what was going on, the less danger he’d be in. Or so she hoped, anyway.

“Like what?” he prodded.

She sighed, “Just go get changed.”

Henry ran off and Emma watched him go, able to feel Regina’s eyes on her. “And if Henry reveals that I’m still around?”

“Oh.” Her stomach fell, though she was uncertain as to why. “Forgot about that.” Turning over her shoulder, she promised, “I’ll talk to him.”

**

“So why can’t we tell your mom and dad that Regina’s still in Storybrooke?”

“Because, kid,” Emma sighed, already weary of Henry’s inquisitive nature today. “I told you. If they find out, they will probably tell Rumplestiltskin, who may end up going after you just to get back at Regina.”

“So why does she care if Rumplestiltskin goes after me?”

She gaped at him. “Henry! You have _got_ to stop this. Okay? Regina loves you and you know that.”

“No she didn’t. I bet she just pretended all this time.”

Emma sighed. “Trust me. People can fake a lot of things -- happiness, sadness, illness, whatever.” She met his eyes briefly as they turned off onto Mary Margaret’s street. “But the way a mother loves her kid?” She shook her head, turning her eyes out the windshield again. “No way you can fake that.”

“So you’re saying you want me to be nice to the evil queen? For Operation Python?”

“I’m saying I want you to be nice to _your mother_. For no reason other than the fact that _she’s your mother_.” She shot him a look, and that was the end of the discussion.

**

“Emma?” The prince was the first one to greet them when they knocked on the apartment door. He immediately broke into a smile and pulled her into a hug. “My beautiful daughter, it’s so wonderful to see you again.”

Emma feigned a smile, still feeling a little odd being called a ‘daughter’ by people who looked no older than she was. “You too.”

He leaned back briefly, calling toward the upstairs loft, “Snow, Emma and Henry are here to visit!” before he stepped aside and swung the door open wide. “Come in.”

He smiled at them both as they came in and hung up their light jackets, his eyes on Henry. “I, uh...” He chuckled, glancing to Emma. “I must admit, when I imagined visiting with my grandson, I imagined myself much older.”

Emma nodded, wondering why he was so well-spoken as the prince but such a bumbling wreck as David Nolan. “Yeah, this whole thing’s kinda weird, huh?”

“Indeed.”

“Emma. Henry,” Snow White greeted them, grasping a bit of her long linen skirt in each hand as she came down the stairs under the adoring gaze of her husband. “So wonderful to see you two again.” She embraced them, ruffling Henry’s hair. “How are you doing, Henry?”

“Just fine, Miss Blanchard,” he replied. Then he smiled, covering his mouth briefly. “I mean... Grandma.” He made a face, tilting his head curiously. “Do I call you Grandma? You don’t look like one.”

She giggled. “I certainly don’t feel like one, either.” She reached out her hand, then. “Come. I’ll make us some hot cocoa with cinnamon.”

“Cool!” Henry took her hand and followed her into the kitchen.

Emma and Charming smiled after them before turning to one another, Emma’s thumbs in her back pockets. “Sorry to just drop by--”

“No no, we’re always happy to see you. We were actually hoping we would have seen you last night at the town hall meeting.”

Emma’s eyes flitted toward Henry ever-so-briefly, who was giving her a curious look. She shook her head as subtly as she could, telling him not to question it.

Then, she turned back to the prince. “Yeah, sorry. I just... didn’t know how long it would take, and I didn’t want to leave Henry alone for long--”

“I imagine not,” he sighed, folding his flannel-clad arms over his chest. “Not with Regina on the loose.”

Emma fought the minor irritation that bubbled up at that comment. “Right, exactly.”

“Oh, James?” Snow called, pushing a mug of hot chocolate toward Henry while he sat on a barstool. “Could you fill Emma in on the meeting last night?”

“Certainly, my love.” He then gestured for Emma to follow him into the living area.

 _Prince James_ , she thought, never having heard him called by his real name, even by Henry. She took a seat on the ottoman James directed her toward, while he took a seat in the adjacent arm chair.

“Last night, at the meeting, we received a visit from Rumpelstiltskin,” he told her, voice low and quiet so as not to be overheard.

Right, Emma thought. During which he lied his ass off and got you to believe him.

Outwardly, she nodded. “Okay...”

“It seems that Regina is the one that brought magic back to Storybrooke. And we have reason to believe that she is working on a new, more powerful curse.”

“Rumplestiltskin told you this?”

He nodded.

Emma paused, just staring at him and hoping she didn’t look too incredulous. “And you believe him?”

“Well...” He tilted his head, leaning around her to throw a surreptitious glance toward Henry and Snow White, who seemed to be chatting happily. If possible, his voice became even more hushed when he turned back to her. “In all honesty, I don’t trust that man any further than he can be thrown.”

She refrained from smiling. Perhaps there was hope for these two yet.

“But he _was_ correct in his assertion that you would be the one to break the curse. That you would return on your 28th birthday to begin the final battle. I believe he deserves at least a _little_ credit where that’s concerned.”

“And Snow White?” Emma raised her eyebrows, hoping her voice and her face showed nothing but neutrality. “What does she think?”

“Snow, she’s...” Another glance toward the kitchen, then he turned back. “She’s quite... fervent, let’s say... in her quest for justice.”

Her brows quirked. “So she wants to get revenge on Regina.”

“More than that I fear, my child.” He glanced down at his lap, elbows on his thighs and hands rubbing together in the space between his knees nervously. “The level of focus she has on this goal is... unnerving.”

Emma searched his eyes back and forth, a glimmer of dread low in her gut. “What are you saying?”

James’ eyes bored into hers, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I’m saying I don’t believe Snow will be satisfied, until Regina is dead.”

 

**TBC**


	8. Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She felt Regina’s heartbeat though they weren’t pressed very close. She felt the uncertainty hit the queen just as it had hit her split-seconds before. And she felt the minuscule tingling of her scalp as Regina’s hand just barely glanced through her curls.

 

*****

“Dead?” She couldn’t help the shocked whisper that escaped. “You think she would actually kill Regina?”

James sighed, dipping his head. “She and Regina have... a very complicated past.” He met her eyes again. “Surely you know that.”

“I do, but,” she tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “But I don’t.”

He glanced into the kitchen, and Emma watched him exchange a look with Snow White. When she smiled curiously at him, he turned away. “Now is not the time to explain, I’m afraid,” he told her.

Emma shook her head. “When is?”

“Soon. I fear I may shortly need your help, my daughter.” There was a glint of desperation in his eyes. “Your mother has a thirst for blood -- for Regina’s blood -- and I don’t know how to get her to back down.”

“I’ll help you,” she promised without thought.

He looked almost relieved. A bright smile broke forth and he grabbed for her hands, kissing her knuckles. “I knew you would. Thank you.” Releasing her, he shook his head and seemed to correct himself. “I’m not fond of Regina by any means, but I also don’t wish for Snow to stoop to her level. Besides, it’s high time this feud between them come to an end. Seems that ever since Daniel--”

“Daniel?” Emma furrowed her brows. “Who’s Daniel?”

The prince opened his mouth to fill her in, but that was when Henry interrupted. “Hey guys, there’s cocoa here for you too!”

Emma spotted Henry and Snow coming toward them, cups of cocoa in-hand, and she quickly turned back to James, whispering, “Soon.”

He nodded subtly, and that was that.

**

“So what were you and Prince Charming talking about?” Henry asked, on the way back to the mayor’s estate.

Emma glimpsed at him before turning her eyes back to the road, wondering just how much information she could trust him with. “Just... stuff.” Then she almost made a face at herself. She used to be so much better at hiding things from him.

“What stuff?”

She sighed. “What were you talking about with Sn--” She interrupted herself and shook her head, “With your grandmother?”

“Weird calling her that, huh?” Henry smirked.

“You got that right.”

Then in answer to her question, he shrugged. “She was asking me things about the book. About how I knew everybody here was cursed.”

At that, Emma couldn’t help but frown. “That’s right, she gave you that book.” After a moment, she turned to look at him. “How did you know the whole town was cursed?”

“It just fit,” he said. “There’s been so much weird stuff going on here since I was little.”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “Before I got to town, didn’t seem like much of anything happened around here.”

“That’s just it,” he told her. “Everything was too normal. Too quiet. There were so many things that never made sense. Like I remember how I met almost everybody here. But they could never remember how they met each other. We didn’t have any crickets here. Time stood still!”

At that, she gave him a look -- half-smirk, half-skepticism. “Come on, I think you know that time was never ‘frozen.’ You’ve gotten bigger. Older.” Turning her eyes back to the road, she raised her brows and commented under her breath, “I definitely would’ve remembered carrying a ten-year-old around in my uterus.”

“But we were never part of the original curse. Everybody else was, and none of them ever got any older.”

That remark gave her pause. She pulled into the driveway at Regina’s and cut the engine, turning to her son. “So now that the curse is broken, are they all gonna get old?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I bet _she_ does.” He gestured toward the house.

**

“You’re back.” Regina greeted, her tone stoic and face drawn. She stopped just in front of them in the foyer, crossing her arms over her chest. “Did you find out anything?”

Emma made a face, momentarily confused.

Regina raised her eyebrows, eyes widening slightly in disbelief as she leaned forward, arms still across her chest. “About the _meeting_ , Miss Swan.”

“Oh.” Apparently she was done with the whole ‘no formalities’ thing. “I, uh... I started to. I got a little sidetracked.”

Regina pursed her lips, eyes narrowing sharply for just a second before she intoned slowly, “Well need I remind you that time is of the essence here? What could you have _possibly_ been discussing that was so important?”

Emma took a step forward, accepting the silent challenge as she asked of Regina, “Who’s Daniel?” and then watched her falter in her steps.

She just stared for a moment, eyes large. When her voice emerged, it was a dangerous whisper. “Where did you hear that name?”

But Emma’s sharp gaze never wavered. “Guess.”

“Hey, stop! Stop it.”

Both women glanced down, each of them almost startled by the reminder that they were not the only two people in the room, as Henry physically put himself between them.

He looked up at Emma first. “You told me in the car that I should be nicer to Regina. Because she’s my mom and because she loves me.”

Regina gaped at him a moment before looking up to Emma in surprise. “You said that?”

Emma just barely nodded before Henry broke in again.

“So that means that you have to be nice to each other, too. So no more fighting. Okay?”

They exchanged another look, neither one of them particularly thrilled with the prospect, but still they each sighed and looked down to Henry, murmuring their agreement.

“Alright.”

“You’ve got a point, kid.”

He smiled, proud of himself. “Good.”

He stepped forward and hugged Emma, his arms around her midsection. She ran a hand through his hair before he stepped back. Then, he went to Regina. The hug he gave her was a bit more tentative... almost unsure... and for a moment Regina looked as though something miraculous had happened.

Emma watched the smile come to her face, her eyes blinking in quick succession to ward off tears as she hugged her son. It was over almost as soon as it had begun, and then he looked back and forth between them once again.

“Now you.”

Their heads whipped up in unison, eyes locking in almost twin alarmed expressions. Emma chuckled uneasily, glancing down at Henry. “Uhh, what?”

His expression was guileless as he blinked up at her and reasoned, “You need to be nice to each other. So start with a hug.”

They looked up at each other again, each uncomfortable with the implied proximity of a hug. After a moment, Regina plastered on an indulgent smile and murmured, “Fine.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” And she stepped forward.

Tentatively, the two adversaries wrapped their arms around one another, Emma’s sliding under Regina’s and around her back, while Regina’s wound up around her shoulders. And for a moment, Emma was awash with the strangest sensation -- almost as if time slowed briefly, while an unusual warmth spread through her chest. She felt herself frowning curiously, uncertain of what was happening.

She felt Regina’s heartbeat though they weren’t pressed very close. She felt the uncertainty hit the queen just as it had hit her split-seconds before. And she felt the minuscule tingling of her scalp as Regina’s hand just barely glanced through her curls. She was pulling away. So Emma let her hands fall away, still silently questioning every sensation.

They each took a step back and met eyes. She tried to discern Regina’s expression, which she thought came across as slightly shaken. Their eyes flitted away from one another and Regina crooked a brow while asking of the boy, “Will that be sufficient?”

Henry made a face, but shrugged one shoulder. “I guess.”

“Good.” And then she marched away before another word was spoken.

Emma just watched her go, eyes trained on her retreat into the study. She felt the last vestiges of warmth slipping away, leaving her chilled and wondering what just happened.

 

**TBC**


	9. Pitiful Creatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Perhaps you see something in Regina that nobody else does. A glimmer of something that nobody else has bothered to look for.”

 

*****

The rest of the day was spent in awkward tension. She and Regina avoided any proximity whatsoever after that hug in the foyer, and Henry either didn’t notice or happily ignored their behavior.

After a painfully-quiet lunch, the three of them went their separate ways. Henry wandered up to his room to look through his fairytale book again (“Gathering intel,” had been his reasoning), Regina closed herself away in her study, which left Emma to her own devices.

She decided to pay another visit to the prince and princess, but this time without the accompaniment of innocent ears. So she got in her Bug and drove off, the magical protection bubble shimmering ever-so-briefly as she passed the threshold of the driveway.

When she got to the loft, she heard the voices of her parents. They were raised, arguing over the top of one another:

_“...Because I don’t think it’s going to solve anything, Snow!”_

_“How can you say that? After everything she’s done to us -- to my father, to others -- how can you even insinuate that we won’t be better off without her?”_

_“What I’m saying is that we don’t need to resort to her tactics to win! Good always triumphs, you know that. Don’t allow yourself to lose sight of your own values because of her. She’s not worth it.”_

_“I want her gone, James! I don’t care how it’s done, I just want her gone. I’ll get someone else to take care of it.”_

_“Like the Huntsman she hired to kill_ you _? Don’t you see, Snow? You’re straying down a darker path instead of thinking of ways to resolve this conflict without resorting to violence!”_

Emma raised her brows, knocking softly with the knuckle of her middle finger. “Hello?”

 _”There_ is _no other way! She cannot be reached by-by.... logic or reason! She cannot be reached by common decency. She got it in her head that the only way to true happiness was through dark magic and abuse of power. So in order to reach her, we need to do the same.”_

_“I don’t believe that. No. I don’t believe that is a reasonable solution. There must be a way to get through to her. To turn her away from darkness without senselessly killing her.”_

_“Do you really think it’s senseless, James? After everything? She killed my father. She poisoned me, imprisoned you, and then cursed us all for the last 28 years! Do you really think such a pitiful creature deserves to live?”_

Emma had heard enough for the time-being, and gently pushed the door open. “Hello? Guys?”

James and Snow halted mid-argument, the two of them standing on opposite sides of the kitchen island. James turned over his shoulder to look at her while Snow leaned around him. “Emma.”

“Sorry to barge in...” She studied them, feigning ignorance as to what she had just overheard. “Is this a bad time?”

She watched the prince throw a furtive glance at his wife, before turning back to Emma and greeting her properly. “Of course not, my love,” he told her, his hand in the middle of her back as he gestured toward the kitchen table. “Please, come in and have a seat.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, pushing a slice of hair behind her ear. It was still extremely odd to hear ‘David Nolan’ refer to her as ‘my daughter’ or ‘my love.’ Just as it was to hear ‘Mary-Margaret’ occasionally use the term ‘Emma dear.’ She wondered briefly if she would ever get used to the idea of having parents that were roughly in her same age group.

“Two visits in one day,” James commented, a bright smile on his face. “What a pleasant surprise.”

She smiled back, briefly, before it faded. “Yeah, well... I feel like we didn’t really get a chance to talk much about that whole town hall meeting thing with Henry in the room.”

“Ah yes. Well, shall we continue?”

He and Snow White took seats on opposite sides of the table from one another, tension still thick. Emma eyed them briefly, deciding to push past it. “Right. So... Rumplestiltskin told you that Regina was the one that brought magic back to Storybrooke.”

“Correct,” Snow nodded.

She looked to the prince next. “And you said he mentioned that she might be using it to make a new curse.”

“Yes. One much more powerful than the last.”

“So... what’s his plan? What does he think we should do?”

“Well,” Snow glanced at her husband briefly before turning back to Emma. “He believes the best solution is to kill Regina.”

“Yes,” James jumped in, “And I believe that won’t solve anything.”

Snow White tilted her head, a warning in her tone. “James...”

“I... kinda agree,” Emma cringed, looking to her mother for a reaction.

Her eyes were wide. “What?” Glimpsing between the two of them, she hissed, “How can you even say that?”

Emma shrugged. “Because I don’t think Regina is the one to worry about in this case.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Snow threw her hands up briefly and let them land on the tabletop loudly. “She’s the reason we’re all here, the reason why none of us have been able to be happy for the last twenty-eight years. How is she suddenly no longer a threat?”

“Because I would bet you she’s well aware that she’s outnumbered.”

Snow huffed, folding her arms. “Knowing Regina, she’d probably just see that as a fun challenge.”

Emma sighed, deciding to try a different tack. “Okay... did either of you ever consider the possibility that what Rumplestiltskin told you might not be the truth?”

That gave them pause. The prince and princess looked at one another, almost holding a silent conversation with their eyes. Then, Snow turned back to her. “He... was truthful when he told us you would break the curse.”

Emma raised her brows. “So that means you’re gonna take everything else he says as gospel? Come on.”

“Snow...” James glanced at her through his lashes. “She has a point. He is known for lies and trickery.”

“In order to get what he wants,” she explained, head inclined quizzically. “But what would he get out of lying to us about Regina?”

“How about the chance to go after her himself? And the rest of you right along with her?” she offered, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms.

The two of them exchanged another look. Confusion knit the princess’ brow, but still she turned to her daughter with an interest in her tone. “Go on...”

“From everything I’ve read in Henry’s book, it seems like he only ever looks out for himself. It’s all about the power. And here, Regina took his power away. So he needs to outdo what she’s done in order to show her who’s really the most powerful.”

"So you think _he_  released magic, and told us it was Regina?"

She nodded. "I think that's a very real possibility."

“But how would he have done that if she took his power away?”

Emma sighed. “Before the curse broke... before all of you guys remembered who you were... I went with Regina to see him. Henry was dying and we needed his help. He gave me your sword,” she glanced to James, “and told me about a vial of magic that came over with all of you when she cursed you. It was a potion he made from strands of your hair.”

“Ours?” Snow questioned.

Emma nodded. “True love, he said. Because it’s the most powerful magic of all.”

Realization appeared to dawn on Snow White’s face. “That was why he wanted my hair.”

“And mine,” the prince jumped in.

“Right. He must have known it would make this... ‘true love’ potion or whatever. The point is, he essentially gave me a quest. To get that potion from its hiding place. It was in a golden egg--”

“Inside a dragon,” James finished, looking stunned. “I-I...did that for him, a lifetime ago.”

“Well, he wanted me to go get it back. So Regina and I went to the library. Underneath was some sort of... dungeon thing.” She looked to the prince. “She brought the dragon over with her. Apparently it used to be a friend of hers--”

“Maleficent,” James murmured. “I remember.”

Snow White watched this all with curiosity as Emma went on.

“So I went down there with your sword to get that stupid egg, all because he told Regina and I that it was the only way to save Henry.” She shook her head, eyes on the table as she murmured to herself, “Regina told me not to trust him. She was right. It was a lie. He tricked us both. He tied Regina up... bound her to a chair and taped her mouth shut... and then when he got the egg from me, he left us both. He wanted that magic just for him.”

She held Snow’s gaze as she hammered in the final point. “But I was so wrapped up hating Regina for what she’d done, that I failed to see that Rumplestiltskin lied to us. That he tricked us, to help himself. Because that’s what he does.”

The prince and princess exchanged a long look, silent contemplation on Snow White’s face while James seemed to silently plead with her to consider the argument she’d just been presented with. “Snow...” he murmured.

Slowly, she looked up and met Emma’s eyes. Her voice was quiet, still contemplative and laced with a hint of confusion as she asked, “Regina helped you, when Henry was ill? And she warned you about Rumplestiltskin?”

Emma nodded, hopeful that her mother was catching on. “Yes. Yes, she did.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would she do that?”

“Because she loves Henry. Because she wanted to save him as much as I did.”

“But...” Snow shook her head. “If not for her, then Henry would never have--”

“I know,” she cut her off, closing her eyes. “I know.” Lifting her head, she met her eyes once more. “But I was with her when she saw what had happened to him. I was with her right up until the time the curse broke. And I’m telling you... _something changed_  in her. I don’t know what, but something did.”

“Where is she now?” the prince asked, touching her forearm gently. “Do you know?”

Emma met his eyes and searched them. They were a copy of her own. After a moment, she swallowed and shook her head, holding his gaze as she lied, “No. I don’t know where she is.”

He held her gaze a moment longer, and then nodded, “Okay,” looking to Snow next.

“So what do we do about Rumplestiltskin then? How will we know if he’s lying to us?”

Emma took a breath, not wanting to reveal how much she knew about the situation, otherwise it would give away the fact that Regina had been her source. “Keep an eye on him,” she told them. “Work with him, plan with him, but whatever you do, _do not_  trust him. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

  
*****

Once the sun had gone down, Emma bid her parents goodbye, and the prince offered to walk her to her car while Snow White stayed behind, intent on cleaning up after their supper.

They walked down the halls slowly, throwing glances at each other every so often. “You didn’t have to walk me out,” Emma commented.

“I know,” he replied. “I wanted to speak with you alone for a moment.”

She turned to face him once they had reached her car, brows furrowed. “About what?”

“About where Regina is.”

“But I told you, I don’t--”

“I’m aware of what you told me, Emma.” With a gentle smile, the prince cocked his head, leaning against the side of her car. “But I much prefer the truth.”

She sighed, exhaling a rueful smile. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she shuffled her feet and glanced up at him sheepishly. “Guess this is what sucks about having parents, huh? They know when you’re lying.”

He smirked. “I suppose so.” He looked down and, after a moment, he asked her softly, “Do you really believe something changed in her?”

She thought back to the look of devastation on Regina’s face when they returned to the hospital -- when Henry had been pronounced dead. “Yeah, I do.” She shook her head, almost looking through the sidewalk as she glanced over everything that had happened leading up to and following the curse breaking. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I just--”

“You feel it,” he offered, meeting her eyes.

“Yeah.” She chuckled softly. “Weird, huh?”

“Well, the two of you went through an ordeal together. It may have been orchestrated by her, but it affected her as much as it did you. That doesn’t count for nothing in terms of intuition.”

“Right.” She leaned against the car beside him, hands still in her pockets. After a long moment of silence, she looked over at him. “Tell me who Daniel is.”

“Yes, I... gave that some thought since this morning. I, uh...” He shook his head. “I don’t feel it’s my place to tell you about him. You could try asking your mother. She believes that what Regina went through with Daniel is why she became who she is now. Why she resorted to dark magic and misdeeds. And why she has such a vendetta against your mother.”

“Oh.” At a loss for anything else to say, Emma merely looked down at the sidewalk again.

“Do you believe there’s a chance that we could somehow... get through to Regina? Help her find the person she used to be before all this started?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’d like to think so. Hope so, I mean.” Then she furrowed her brows at that. Why did she think that? And why did it suddenly matter to her whether Regina ‘turned good’ or not? “I don’t know why, though.”

She looked over at the prince, who merely smiled at her as he straightened up. “Perhaps you see something in Regina that nobody else does. A glimmer of something that nobody else has bothered to look for.” He shrugged. “Perhaps your role of ‘savior’ still remains, even though the curse has broken.”

Emma eyed him. “So you think I might have to ‘save’ Regina.”

“Or perhaps just remind her of who she used to be. Remind her that there’s a better path to take. Particularly if what you said is correct, and that Rumplestiltskin is truly the one to fear.”

He dropped a kiss to her forehead and then headed back toward the apartment building. Emma watched him for just a moment before she called after him, “Why do you care so much?”

“What?” He spun to face her.

She took a step forward, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. Regina made life hell for you.” She gestured toward the building, indicating Snow White. “For both of you. Why do you care about turning her around?”

“Because I believe that everyone deserves happiness. Even a creature as pitiful as Regina.” The prince left it at that, throwing a look at her over his shoulder before he disappeared into the building.

 

**TBC**


	10. The Stars and the Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't think you're evil."

 

*****

Emma returned to the estate past dark, driving through the bubble and watching it shimmer for the briefest of moments before she parked the car and got out. Henry was the first face she saw when she entered; he was sitting at the bottom of the steps in his pajamas, fairytale book in his lap.

“You’re back,” he smiled.

“Yeah. How did everything go today?”

He shrugged. “She pretty much was in her office the whole day. I played in my room and looked through this,” he picked up a page of his book, “to gather intel for Operation Python.”

Emma smirked. “Find anything?”

“Not for the operation, but you mentioned the name ‘Daniel’ earlier, right?”

Her stomach somersaulted briefly. “Yeah...”

Henry smiled, turning the open book around and handing it off to her. “Then you might want to read this story. It’s called ‘The Stable Boy.’”

Emma frowned, taking the book from him and watching as he stood up. “Okay...”

“I’m gonna go to bed,” he told her then. “I’m pretty tired.”

She couldn’t help the chuckle. Normal kids would be trying every trick in the book to stay up late. But Henry had never been ‘normal.’ “Alright. Sleep well, kid.”

“Yup.”

Emma watched him head up the stairs until he disappeared into his bedroom, then she sat down on the stairs and began reading the story. It was a tale of a young girl named Regina, her powerful mother Cora, a witch, and her father. It was a typical fairytale: a protagonist wanting to carve her own path and get out from under the thumb of an overbearing parent. There was a stable boy named Daniel, and a young girl on a runaway horse.

Emma startled as images returned to her -- the flashes she’d experienced when she and Regina touched, while her magic was active. They _had_ been Regina’s memories, which seemed to have been immortalized now in this book.

There was a secret, and an unintentional betrayal... one that led to the stable boy’s untimely demise. By the time Emma was finished reading the tale, her stomach was churning -- a mixture of nausea from envisioning what Regina had seen her mother do to her beloved, and an understanding that such a trauma could easily spark a turn toward darkness.

Emma closed the book, her heart thudding in her ears. It all finally made sense.

The sound of music jarred her from her thoughts briefly, a faint acoustic guitar reaching her from somewhere toward the back of the house. She rose to her feet and followed the sound, setting the book aside on the stairs. She threw a brief glance up at Henry’s closed bedroom door as she made her way toward the back of the house.

_Chimney falls and lovers blaze, thought that I was young_

The sound led Emma toward the back door, which opened on a sprawling patio. An old turntable was set up near to the door, a record spinning lazily.

_Now I’ve freezing hands and bloodless veins, as numb as I’ve become_

She stepped out onto the patio and looked around, spotting Regina off to one side, staring straight ahead as she rocked back and forth on a wooden bench swing.

_I’m so tired, I wish I was the moon tonight_

Emma made her way toward her, spotting the nearly-empty bottle of red wine and the half-full glass in Regina’s hand. She watched her draw it to her lips and take a long drink, eyes still unmoving from their focal point straight ahead. Her father’s words returned to her: _”Everyone deserves happiness. Even a creature as pitiful as Regina.”_

Paired with what she’d just read, about Regina’s shattered chance at happiness, she felt fresh pangs of sympathy wash over her. Carefully she stepped around the swing, watching Regina for any hint of recognition before she sat down across from her.

The song continued on, gentle acoustic guitar and a female singer crooning, as Regina’s head turned. Her eyes swam into focus, and she spoke her name, almost as if trying to place her momentarily. “Emma.”

And Emma once again pushed away the involuntary shiver the sound of her name provoked, and attempted a friendly smile. “Hey.”

She understood so much now. Why Regina turned to dark magic, why she developed such a vendetta against Snow White, and why she sought to pull away everyone’s happiness. There was a part of her that still understood that Regina had taken things a bit too far, of course -- Snow had been just a little girl, and clearly had not known the consequences of divulging a secret -- but it did nothing to diminish the pangs of sympathy she felt for Regina in that moment. “I went to see them again,” she began, knowing Regina would infer the prince and princess.

She took another long drink of wine, holding Emma’s gaze. When the glass came away, Emma watched her press her lips together briefly, nodding slowly. “And I imagine your mother was all too willing to reveal who Daniel is.”

Emma shook her head. “I didn’t ask her.” Off Regina’s look of surprise, she tilted her head, once again attempting a friendly smile. “I’d like to wait to hear it from you.”

Regina raised her brows, “Well, then you’ll be waiting for quite some time,” and took another drink of wine.

Emma glanced down, not allowing herself to be discouraged. Regina always had played everything close to the vest. She looked up, nodding at the wine bottle. “Any more left for me?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll go get a glass,” she said, pushing herself up.

Regina shook her head. “No need,” she commented, and held up a second wine glass.

Emma frowned curiously as she watched her fill the second glass, wondering why she had brought it out with her. “Were you... waiting for me?”

Regina furrowed her brows. “No, of course not. What makes you say that?” She handed her the glass of wine.

Emma held it up briefly. “Then why--” Then, off of Regina’s look, she made a face and shook her head, “Nevermind, doesn’t matter,” and took a long drink.

Regina topped off her own glass with the rest of what was in the bottle and sat back again, rocking gently on the swing. This time, Emma went around to join her, sitting beside her. Regina threw her a look briefly but didn’t protest, instead turning to look straight ahead again.

After another sip, Emma commented, “Nice swing. Comfortable.”

“Mm.” Regina nodded, taking another sip. “I bought it shortly after Henry arrived. It ended up coming in handy.”

“Oh?” Emma angled herself toward Regina, bending one leg on the seat of the swing while the other remained on the ground, helping to keep them in motion.

Regina soon mirrored her position, the arm holding her wine glass braced against the back of the swing. She smiled, staring at the seat as she seemingly recalled a memory. “There were quite a few sleepless nights when Henry arrived. And sometimes, it felt too stuffy in the house when I was trying to comfort him. So I would bring him out here.”

Emma smiled, tilting her head as Regina continued.

“He would fall back asleep almost instantly. Like the fresh air was all he needed to calm down. I would barely make it through one lullaby before he was out again.”

“You would sing to him?”

“Mm-hmm.” She took another drink. “A song my father used to sing to me when I was a girl, about the stars and the trees. It was my favorite.” She chuckled.

“Even when he was four and five years old, he would sometimes have a difficult time getting to sleep. He would ask me to take him out here. So I had him lie down on the swing and would cover him with his blanket. And just like when he was a baby, I would get halfway through the lullaby and he’d be fast asleep. So I would scoop him up and bring him back up to his bed.”

“You were a good mother,” Emma commented, taking another sip of wine.

Regina raised her eyebrows ruefully. “I wish Henry could remember that.”

“I’m sure he does. He’s just--”

“Convinced that I’m evil?” She smirked.

Emma chuckled. “Maybe.” She watched Regina look down into her glass, soft smile fading, and she was powerless to stop her mouth from carrying on without her brain. “I don’t think you’re evil.”

Regina glanced over at her, surprise in her expression. “You don’t?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Difficult and bitchy, yes,” she smirked, “But not evil.”

“Well... others would beg to differ.” Tilting her head, she raised her brows and commented down into her glass, “I’ve done some pretty terrible things.”

“I’m sure you have.” She swirled the wine glass in her hand, watching the dark liquid come close to splashing up over the sides before going back down again. “But to me, the difference is tied to emotion. Remorse. Do you feel remorse over the things you’ve done?”

She watched as Regina gave that some thought. She took another sip of wine, then a deep breath, and looked over at her. “I never used to.”

“But you do now?”

“I don’t know... maybe.” Regina’s brow creased, eyes cut to the side in thought. When she spoke, it was slow... uncertain. “I feel... different about it than I used to.” She met her eyes. “To be quite honest, I used to feel happy about it. Pleased, even. And now, almost losing Henry...” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I feel about all of it. Ambivalent, I guess.”

Emma quirked a brow, nodding slowly. “Step in the right direction, at least,” she offered.

At that, Regina made a face, a bit of ice lacing her tone as she asked, “Why do you care what direction I go?”

That tripped her up momentarily. Such an easy question and yet... Emma had no easy answer. Why did she care? Was her father correct? Did she see a flicker of something in Regina that hinted at a possible turnaround? And after everything she had done, why would that matter?

After a few attempts at speech, which inevitably failed, and she ended up opening and closing her mouth silently a few times, she finally answered, “...I don’t know. I just do for some reason.” She studied Regina closely, watching her absorb that answer, before she posed a question of her own. “Do you _want_ me to care?”

The two women met eyes. Regina’s searched hers back and forth. The wine glass was set aside, and her hands folded primly in her lap. Emma watched as her lips pursed in thought. She opened her mouth to reply and then seemed to confuse herself. Her mouth closed again. Finally, she sat back against the swing heavily, sending it rocking, as she glanced over at her again. “...I don’t know.”

And so there they sat, a bit of awkward tension settling around them, as each seemingly wondered whether or not they should care about the other’s fate. Emma finished off her wine, wishing it were something stronger, while Regina got to her feet.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.”

She gathered up the glasses and the empty wine bottle, taking them inside. A few seconds later, the record had stopped and the nighttime air was left with just the music of the crickets. Emma stayed behind a moment longer, glancing at Regina’s path of retreat before staring straight ahead again. Something had shifted between them again.

After a few minutes had passed, Emma went inside, locking the patio door behind her. Most of the lights were off in the estate as she went upstairs, and she turned off the hall light before peering into Henry’s bedroom. He was sound asleep, and she pulled his door halfway closed again before continuing to the master bedroom.

Upon stepping inside, she spotted Regina, fluffing the pillows on her side and turning to look at her. They watched one another almost cautiously. Regina pulled back the covers and got in on her side, turning out her bedside light, while Emma went around to the other side.

Slowly, she stripped down to her underwear and tank top, watching Regina’s back as she laid on her side facing the door. Then, she slipped in on the opposite side of the bed, still watching her counterpart furtively and saying quietly, “Goodnight, Regina.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

She turned out the remaining light and faced the window on her side, hand pillowed under her head while she frowned to herself.

And both women laid awake, deep in thought for several moments more, neither noticing that they scooted a little closer together before drifting off to sleep.

 

**TBC**


	11. The Stable Boy Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do you care?” Regina asked. And whereas a few nights before it was posed softly and without emphasis... now it was emphatic. Conviction and near desperation laced her tone.

 

*****

The next couple days passed by with only faint buzzes of activity. Emma and Henry paid a couple more visits to Snow and Charming, who seemed to be getting restless. Snow White still desired a showdown with Regina, while Prince James wished for more information from Rumplestiltskin, though everyone seemed to be laying low.

The town itself seemed to carry on as though nothing had happened. Granny and Red still ran the diner and the bed and breakfast. The fairies kept to the convent and James still picked up shifts at the animal shelter. Some of the residents of the town were anxious to return to their old lives and old homes, while others appeared content to remain in Storybrooke.

According to the prince and princess, appearances from Rumplestiltskin had been fewer and further between. Sightings of him had been only sporadic since his appearance at City Hall, and even Snow White couldn’t help but consider the fact that he was up to something. Yet without any information to go off of, there wasn’t much for anyone to do except to carry on with their day-to-day lives.

And while life in Storybrooke appeared to push forward, the energy back at the estate was at a standstill. Emma had no idea what was happening between her and Regina; it seemed they both volleyed between tenuous care for each other, and tentative indifference. It was the most confusing feeling.

Regina still refused to share any information about the stable boy she had loved, and Emma chose not to push her. Though she was woken up twice the last two nights by Regina. The first time, Regina bolted upright while screaming the stable boy’s name, and the second, she had been yelling at her mother to stop. Each time, Emma sat up, ready to offer comfort against her better judgment, but predictably Regina insisted that she was fine.

Emma had told her each time, “You’re not fine. You should talk about it,” but Regina always ignored her and went back to sleep, seemingly annoyed by her presence.

And yet each morning, Emma awoke to find a fresh cup of hazelnut-flavored coffee waiting for her, almost a metaphorical olive branch from the fallen queen. And each morning she would descend the staircase to find Regina and Henry having breakfast together in the dining room. Regina was no longer politely distant in the mornings, but rather would offer Emma a slight smile as a greeting, which Emma would happily accept and return. She almost wondered if they were becoming friends.

Until one afternoon, when Emma returned to the estate from dropping Henry off with Snow and Charming. She was barely inside before Regina accosted her, eyes ablaze as she held up Henry’s book. “What the hell is this?!”

Emma froze, closing the door behind her as she tried to assess Regina’s demeanor. “It’s... Henry’s book. You’ve seen it before. Why?”

“What the hell is _this_ doing in here?!” She jabbed at one of the pages.

She shook her head, completely confused as to where this rage had suddenly come from. “Regina, what the hell are you--” and then she spotted the contents of the page Regina had open: the ‘Stable Boy’ tale. “Oh.”

“You knew this entire time, didn’t you?”

She met Regina’s eyes, searching the fiery, tear-filled browns as she quickly tried to figure out the best way to handle her. “Look--”

_“Didn’t you!”_

“Only for three days. Henry found the story and showed it to me.”

Regina’s chin quivered as she looked down at the book again, a large tear falling onto the page. Emma found herself torn between apprehension and sympathy, and she awaited Regina’s next move for her cue.

After a moment, Regina straightened up. Tears remained in her eyes, though her lip ceased to tremble. A cold, hard expression took over her features and she hugged the book to her chest. Then, an almost determined smile graced her lips, and she began to stride with purpose toward her study.

Emma followed after her immediately, having seen that smile before and knowing it never meant anything good was about to happen. “Regina...” she called cautiously, “What are you doing?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” she replied.

With a flick of her wrist, the study’s French doors slammed shut, mere inches behind where Emma stood. She jumped, a slight gasp escaping, as she watched Regina with trepidation.

Regina snapped her fingers and the fireplace off to one side roared to life, its flames jumping high. Emma’s heart began to slam in her chest; she knew what the queen was about to do. “Don’t.”

She spun, eyes glinting as she glared. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Henry,” was her only reply as she took a few steps toward her. “You know that book means a lot to him. And he means a lot to you. Don’t take it away from him.”

Within a split-second, Emma was airborne, her back slamming high against the far wall, right next to a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. She didn’t fall but rather remained almost pinned in place. She glanced to Regina, who was holding up a hand to keep her where she was.

With fury in her eyes, the queen strode over to her, seething, “ _Don’t_ use my son against me, _ever again_!”

But Emma held her ground, teeth clenched as she glared right back into her eyes. “You know if you destroyed that book it would destroy him.”

“Sometimes parents destroy things their children love,” Regina spat, tears filling her eyes again. “Sometimes the thing they love most is taken away from them before they can blink!”

Emma relaxed, no longer struggling under Regina’s invisible grip, understanding where the burst of fury had come from. Regina had re-read the tale and, in doing so, re-lived the trauma of losing her stable boy, her Daniel. “I know,” she murmured, “I know.”

The sudden softness in her tone must have caught Regina off-guard. She relaxed her grip and took a step back, and Emma seized the opportunity to grab her hand in a comforting gesture.

As she did, she gasped, neck thrown back as she was suddenly assaulted with another barrage of images in full technicolor, sounds echoing and pictures rippling and twisting through her mind’s eye:

A little girl in a white coat with flowers in her hair, smiling, _”I’m Snow. Snow White,”_ and hugging Regina.

A middle-aged king dropping to one knee holding up an extravagant ring proposing marriage, followed by Regina bursting into a stable in a long cloak, desperation in her voice: _”Daniel?!”_

Then the two of them attempting to run away, only to be thrown back by an invisible force, created by a woman in a long black cloak.

Finally, the woman in the black cloak ripping the heart from the stable boy and him collapsing in Regina’s arms... her attempts to revive him with a kiss overlaid by the woman’s voice: _”Love is weakness, Regina... I’ve saved you, my love...”_

Then, the contact broke and Emma opened her eyes with a gasp, as if coming out of a nightmare. She was crumpled on the floor near the bookcase and she looked up to find Regina crumpled on the other side of the room, against the doors. Both were breathing heavily.

It had happened again -- again when Regina was using magic, though this time it had been much more powerful, more potent. The images and sounds had been much more vivid.

Emma pushed herself up on shaking arms, exhaling, “Regina...”

And Regina appeared to have reached her breaking point. She pushed herself up enough that she was sitting with her back against the doors before she burst into tears, the back of her trembling hand pressing against her lips. Her eyes squeezed shut as tears streamed past and Emma acted on pure instinct, going over to her.

If she threw her against the wall again, then so be it.

Carefully, she placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, kneeling in front of her. “Regina...”

She ducked her head, trying to capture her gaze, a light sheen of tears misting her own eyes just at the sight of pure grief on the queen’s face.

Then before she knew what was happening, Regina had collapsed against her, gut-wrenching sobs escaping as she wrapped her arms tight around Emma’s shoulders. And Emma remained on her knees, arms around Regina’s waist as she tried to offer comfort as best she could, while silently thanking whatever deity was available that she didn’t destroy one of Henry’s most prized possessions.

For the longest time, they remained slumped together on the floor, Regina’s painful sobs eventually ebbing to quiet cries and sniffles. Emma refrained from telling her it would be okay, or that she was there... any of the trite murmurs typically offered with comfort. They’d only spark her ire. Instead she just remained where she was, hugging her and occasionally running a comforting hand over her back.

Finally, Regina seemed to compose herself and Emma was shoved roughly aside. She chose not to feel hurt at the action, though she couldn’t deny the split-second pang. She stood up, offering a hand to the queen who gave her a look through her lashes and then took it.

This time, there was no burst of energy, no mingled images or sounds. They weren’t blasted apart. It was just the two of them, no magic.

Regina gave a slight tug on her tailored jacket, and Emma recognized the gesture. Back to business. So she sighed and prepared herself to be shut out of the study.

But instead, Regina went over and poured them each a glass of scotch, handing one to Emma before she sat on the ornate sofa. “Sit.”

She did so without question, wondering what was up the queen’s sleeve.

Regina was quiet for a long moment. She stirred the scotch in her glass with one finger and brought it to her lips, savoring the liquid. She stared down into the glass and took a few deep breaths. Emma was about to ask her what was on her mind, just as she spoke.

“Daniel was our stable boy,” she began, her tone slow and methodical, almost as if reciting verse. “He had worked for us for a couple years, since I was about sixteen. At first, I ignored him.” Quirking an eyebrow, she added, “Particularly when my mother was watching.”

Emma just sat with her and listened, afraid to offer any sort of response in case it would cause her to shut down.

“But once in awhile, we would chat. About banal things, mostly. But somewhere down the line, they turned into real conversations. And then, deep ones. He was very kind, and he was able to cheer me up when my mother would drag me down.”

Emma allowed a brief smile at that, though Regina took no notice. She was busy staring at the couch cushions, almost looking through them at another life.

“One rainy day, my mother had been berating me, about everything. The way I carried myself, the way that I rode, the way I dressed. So I ran to the stable, just to get away from her. Daniel was there, brushing my steed. He saw how distraught I was and attempted to calm me down, but I was too upset.” She lifted her head, an almost wistful smile on her face. “So he kissed me.”

Emma’s smile widened, and she watched Regina tuck a lock of hair behind her ear before continuing.

“We met up in secret after that... shared stolen kisses, and the occasional picnic lunch. We were in love. But I could never, ever tell my mother.” She shook her head. “No. In her opinion, I was,” she sneered as she mimicked, “‘destined for greatness,’ and shouldn’t waste my time on a commoner.”

Regina told her about the day she and Daniel had met up on the hill and they saw the runaway steed with the little girl on it... the little girl that happened to be Snow White, the daughter of King Leopold. She told her about the King’s visit and subsequent proposal, and her desperation to get away.

She told Emma about the secret she shared with little Snow White, and the consequences that came along with it. By the time she began to describe the fateful night she lost Daniel, she had all but dissolved into tears again.

Emma reached out, carefully, and covered the hand that rested on the back of the couch, knowing it would just get pulled away but still wanting to try. Surprisingly, Regina did not let go. Rather, she turned her hand to grip Emma’s, their fingers lacing together and squeezing tight as if Regina needed some connection with reality as she relived the tale.

Emma watched this all transpire, unable to help noticing that Regina seemed to be unaware of the linking of their hands as she continued tremulously through her story.

“I tried to kiss him awake, I thought it was a spell, but it wasn’t. She had killed him, right in front of my eyes.” Her voice broke and she seemed to hiccup back a sob. “Tore his heart out and crushed it into dust.”

Emma swallowed the lump starting to rise in her throat and gripped Regina’s hand a bit more tightly, hoping to offer some semblance of comfort.

“Then she basically told me to get over it, because I was going to be queen.” Her lip curled derisively, teeth clenched as she ground out, “And it was all because of _her_... the little brat.”

Emma dipped her head. “She was a little girl, Regina,” she reasoned softly. “She didn’t know any better.”

“Didn’t she? Or did she know exactly what she was doing?”

“Of course not.” She shrugged. “From everything you just told me, it sounds like your mother kinda manipulated her into it.” She tilted her head. “And, I bet it was your mom that made her horse go wild, just so you could save her and have an ‘in’ with the King.”

“I always suspected she had a hand in that whole ‘runaway horse’ bit, but--”

“Alright, look at it this way,” Emma sighed, their fingers still laced as she angled toward Regina a little more. “Your mom can tell you’re hiding something from her. They always can, which I’m sure you know.”

Regina nodded.

“So she suspects you’re hiding something and can tell that you and Snow White have sort of a bond. So that’s the first place she goes for information. What if your mother... put some sort of a spell on her?”

Regina’s dark eyes searched the air between them, as if the answers would appear. “She couldn’t have...”

“Couldn’t she?” Emma raised a brow. “She at least could’ve manipulated her into telling.” She watched Regina absorb that a moment longer before she gently pushed one step further. “What if you were mad at the wrong person this whole time?”

“Stop,” she ground out, glaring through her lashes.

But Emma was unfazed, knowing that now was the time to push. “Stop what? Telling you the truth? Stop telling you things you probably tried to ignore for years? Has there really been nobody trying to point out that your anger was a little misguided? Has nobody pointed out that you let your anger turn you into her?”

“Enough!”

“No. You know that I’m right. You know that you went too far and blamed the wrong person. You know that you let your grief... anger... _whatever_ it was... turn you into something you didn’t want to be.”

“Why do you care?” Regina asked. And whereas a few nights before it was posed softly and without emphasis... now it was emphatic. Conviction and near desperation laced her tone.

“Why do I care? Maybe I care because I know there’s more to you than that, that there’s still something good somewhere deep in there,” she pressed a hand to Regina’s heart without breaking eye contact and felt the erratic thudding, “and I want Henry to see it too. Maybe I care because against my better judgment I kinda can’t help it.”

That made them both freeze. Emma realized all at once what she’d said, and that her hand was still pressed to Regina’s heart. Regina looked down at it and then up at her. Emma drew her hand away and placed it back in her lap, embarrassed.

“You care about me.”

“I guess... maybe. I don’t know.” Her eyes flitted away and she tucked a few curls behind her ear. She had no idea where the outburst had come from. She had been all hopped up from getting flashes of Regina’s memories -- something she still didn’t have an explanation for -- not to mention from hearing the tale of the stable boy in Regina’s own words.

She swallowed, asking her lap, “Do you care about _me_?” before slowly looking up and meeting Regina’s brown eyes.

Regina drew in a breath and opened her mouth to respond. Before a syllable could be uttered, however, the sound of breaking glass shattered the moment.

The two of them jumped up in unison, looking around. “What the hell was that?”

Together, they headed for the source of the noise and stopped short in the doorway to the kitchen. The window over the sink was broken, a round impact shatter almost like a baseball the likely culprit.

“Is Henry back?” Regina asked, striding quickly for the back door.

Emma rushed to catch up. “Don’t think so. If he was, I don’t think he’d be out back throwing baseballs at the window.”

They stepped outside into the cool night air, Regina stopping short just as she stepped onto the patio. Emma crashed into her, not expecting the quick stop, and braced her hands on Regina’s arms momentarily. “What?”

Regina just stared, and Emma followed her gaze, furrowing her brows. “How in the world--”

“That’s not possible,” Regina breathed.

The apple tree, which had rotted once the curse had broken, was now once again in full bloom. Deep red apples hung low, waiting to be picked.

They then turned to see that the source of the broken window was not a baseball, but rather an apple with a small scroll tied around it.

Emma looked to Regina, who appeared to be in shock, and her stomach turned. If _she_  was shocked into silence, that couldn’t possibly mean anything good.

“Regina...”

Regina held out a hand low and to the side, a signal to Emma to stay back. She bent to pick up the apple, inspecting the break pattern on the window briefly before pulling the scroll from the red piece of fruit, unrolling it and beginning to read.

And Emma grew sicker and sicker as she watched Regina’s complexion grow more and more pale. Finally, the queen swallowed hard and met her eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, dreading the answer.

Regina said nothing; merely made her way over holding the apple in one hand and the parchment scroll in the other. She placed the parchment in Emma’s hand for her to read:

_Hope you don’t mind that I spruced up your apple tree, dearie. It was looking rather dire._

_Oh and by the way - your fun little bubble may keep out the others, but it can’t stop me._

_Ta._

_-R_

 

**TBC**


	12. Conduit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina laced their fingers together and pressed their palms tight against one another. Emma thought she saw a white light illuminate the queen’s eyes and blank out her own for a moment before the images started.

 

*****

The two women made a mad dash back into the house, wearing twin expressions of alarm. “What do we do?” Emma asked breathlessly.

Regina paced back and forth almost manically, one hand on her hip and the other stroking her collarbone in a mindless gesture. “I don’t... I’m not...”

“Regina, _what do we do_?”

“I don’t know! Okay?!” She spat, whirling around with her hands up. In a matter of seconds, she seemed to realize her outburst. And surprisingly, she ducked her head and muttered, “I’m sorry,” before planting both hands on her hips and resuming her pacing.

Emma’s eyes frantically searched the air in front of her for an answer. “Wait...” And she grabbed Regina’s hand

“What are you doing?” Regina asked, but didn’t struggle against her grip, rather squeezed her hand as Emma led her down into the basement.

She grabbed the chain, turning on the single bulb that illuminated the small, cavernous room. The same room they were in just days before, when Regina was preparing to cast the protection spell. She nodded to the stack of cobweb-covered books. “There.”

“There what?” Regina crooked an eyebrow.

“Grab a book, we need a new spell!”

Regina sighed, tilting her head. “Emma...”

“No, all we need is something... a little bigger, maybe? And-and we can make sure that Henry will always be safe--”

Regina closed her eyes briefly, glancing down. “ _Emma_...”

“I’ll grab the ingredients, whatever you need, and then we can just--”

“Emma!”

She startled when Regina grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake, forcing her to focus. When she did, she exhaled sharply, almost surprised by the madness that had taken her over for a moment. She caught her breath, trying to ignore the feeling of Regina’s thumbs rubbing her shoulders in a comforting gesture.

Quietly, the queen told her, “I don’t think another spell is going to help us, dear. At least, not one I can conjure with any ingredients I have.”

Emma shook her head, breathing returning to normal. “So... now what?”

This time, it appeared it was Regina’s turn to be the calm, rational one. Her hands slid from her shoulders down her arms as she stepped away, fingers catching only momentarily before she turned away. “First things first.”

“I like when you say that,” Emma sighed, shoulders slumping with relief. “It means there might be alcohol involved.”

At that, Regina chuckled. “‘Fraid not this time.” She started back up the stairs, turning over her shoulder as she went, “First you’ll need to call Snow and James. Ask them if they’d be willing to keep Henry there overnight.”

Emma followed her out of the basement, quirking an eyebrow curiously. “And if they ask why?”

Regina shrugged, turning to her once they’d reached the foyer once again. “Tell them you thought it’d be a great opportunity for them to get to know their grandson.”

She nodded. “Got it. What will you be doing?”

Regina cut her eyes to the side in thought. “I... have something I need to look into before we go any further.” Off her look, she replied, “I’ll explain when you’re off the phone.”

**

Emma was lucky to get James on the line when she called; as she dialed, she had been completely unsure how she would mask her nervousness with her mother. Even before the curse broke, ‘Mary-Margaret’ still had an uncanny knack for being able to see through her.

The prince was rightfully concerned, and Emma felt obliged to fill him in, but under the condition that he would not reveal to Snow that Regina was still in Storybrooke. He agreed, concerned only for her safety and Henry’s, and pledged to keep an eye on the boy until morning.

So they’d hung up, and she went to find Regina in the study. A few books were still askew from their earlier showdown, and Henry’s book remained in the middle of the floor. Regina sat on the couch, a completely different leather bound tome in her lap.

“What’s that?” Emma asked, going to sit beside her.

“Research,” she replied, turning a page. Pausing her reading momentarily, she leaned a forearm on the open book and looked up at her. “I lied to you, Emma.”

She quirked an eyebrow, her tone dry. “Got a specific example in mind, or did you wanna run through the whole list?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “When we were doing the protection spell. When we touched hands. I felt something and I told you I didn’t.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, I figured you weren’t being honest.”

“Yes. Partly, it was because you and I were still... at odds, somewhat.” she tilted her head, angling her body toward Emma and propping one elbow on the back of the couch. “And now we’re... not.” She raised her eyebrows. “Right?”

Emma allowed a smile. “I’d like to think we’re not.”

“Very well. And, the other reason was because, quite honestly...” She shook her head, leveling her with a stare. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Emma’s heart skipped at the phrasing, but she pushed the feeling aside as she told her, “That was a first for me too.”

The queen absorbed her response silently, taking a breath and tilting her head. “So, while you were on the phone I started to page through this book to find out what it could be.”

“And?”

“Here.” Keeping the book open, Regina turned it around to face Emma, setting it in her lap.

Emma glimpsed at her surreptitiously through her lashes before turning her attention to the book and skimming the page. “A magical conduit?” she questioned, lifting her head.

Regina nodded, tucking her legs up beside her on the couch. “It appears that everyone of magical ability has a conduit -- someone through whom they can pass and receive magic, not to mention transmit thoughts, memories or feelings. And,” she tilted her head, meeting Emma’s gaze, “It would appear that... you are mine.”

Emma’s heart thudded in her chest, again at simple phrasing, and she tried to ignore it. “I’m yours.”

“That was why you were able to see everything that you saw.”

She shook her head, not understanding. “But... we’ve touched other times, and haven’t had that same result.” She reached out and grasped her hand. “Like that. See? Why can’t I see anything now?”

Regina squeezed her hand briefly before releasing it, leaving Emma a split-second to wonder why, before she pointed to the book. “Because I’m not using magic now.”

Emma glanced down at the page. “‘Magical energy must be present,’” she read.

Regina nodded. “Exactly. Watch.”

They met eyes, and Regina held her gaze as she leaned forward. Emma sucked in a breath, pressing her lips together tightly as she watched Regina reach for the book off her lap, folding it closed and setting it aside. She let out her breath, and could have sworn she saw a bit of a smirk plucking at the queen’s full lips, before she turned to face her again.

Regina held up a hand, palm-up, and pulsed her fingers twice. Each time she pulsed, small bolts of lightning emerged, surrounded by a purple glow. She smiled, reaching out her other hand. Her voice was low, a smooth as velvet alto as she instructed, “Now, take my hand. Tell me what you see.”

Emma did so without question, though she threw a furtive glance at the queen. As soon as their hands touched, her neck snapped back again and she gasped, assailed once more with vivid images and sounds, rippling across her mind’s eye:

Mr. Gold in one of his trademark suits, handing over a small blue bundle. _”I believe I’ve found the perfect one for you, Ms. Mills.”_

And then Regina, receiving the blue bundle with a bright smile on her face. _”Where did you find him?”_

_”I have my sources.”_

Then, an image of Regina holding the blue bundle to her chest waved past, her fingers drawing down the blanket enough to see the baby’s face. Over that was the voice of Mr. Gold, _”What will you call him?”_ followed by Regina’s smile...

_”Henry.”_

Emma gasped as she came to again, finding herself on the floor. She pushed herself up and instinctively reached for Regina, who had also wound up on the floor. They grabbed each other’s elbows as a brace as they got up, meeting one another’s eyes.

“Henry?”

Regina nodded. “My first day with him.”

“So it’s true,” Emma breathed, the two of them resuming their positions on opposite ends of the couch. “I’m your conduit.”

“It would appear that way, yes.”

“So how does that help us right now? And,” she made a face, “Why do we keep getting thrown around the room when it happens?”

Regina shrugged. “According to the book, it’s only a very powerful connection that can create a blast.”

“Oh.” Emma watched her, wondering how to take that remark. A powerful connection, in what sense? Did either of them even really want to know?

“As for how it helps us... it means I can give you the ability to use magic.”

Her expression grew wary. She shook her head. “Oh no, no way. I don’t think that’s--”

“It could help protect Henry,” Regina reasoned.

“How?”

“Well...” She tilted her head, pushing herself to her feet. “Should I become... incapacitated or captured, perhaps worse... you will be able to defend yourself, and Henry, to an extent.”

Emma watched her make her way out into the foyer, following on instinct. “What do you mean if you become ‘incapacitated or worse?’”

Regina stopped and turned to face her, the two of them standing just a foot apart. She chuckled, but it was a mirthless sound. “Let’s face it, the only way out of this war I started is through death.”

The words stuck in Emma’s head for some reason, her voice catching on unsaid words. What those words were, she didn’t yet know. “You don’t believe that,” she murmured lowly. Off Regina’s look, she took a step forward. “The Regina I’ve come to know doesn’t take things lying down. She puts up a fight.”

“Oh, there will be a fight,” she was assured with a smirk. After a moment, the smirk faded. “But over the last few days I’ve come to accept the fact that that fight will end with my inevitable loss.” She sighed. “And, when that time comes, it is of the utmost importance to me that Henry escapes all this unscathed. That’s why I want to imbibe you with magical ability.” She headed for the basement again, beckoning over her shoulder, “Follow me.”

Emma stayed rooted to the spot. “You know I won’t let that happen, right?”

Regina paused, turning to face her. “You _won’t_ allow me to give you magic?”

“No, not that.” She took a step forward. “You know I’m not gonna let you get killed, right?”

She watched as an almost touched smile flitted across Regina’s features for a moment, before she schooled them and gave a rueful frown. “You may not have a choice in the matter, I’m afraid.” Then she continued on her way into the basement.

And Emma followed after her, trying to figure out why the thought of Regina getting killed bothered her so much.

“Stand here, facing me,” Regina told her, pointing to a spot on the ground.

Emma did as she was told, pushing away the vestiges of worry over the queen’s fate. “Do we have to do some kind of... ritual?”

“Of sorts, yes.” Regina stepped up in front of her, the two of them separated by less than a foot. “We’ll need to share blood.”

She raised her eyebrows. “We need to what-now?”

“Share blood. With a conduit, I can transfer magical ability only temporarily by touch. The way to make it stick is to have it in your bloodstream.”

“That sounds... dangerous,” Emma frowned.

“It’s no different than the act of two children deciding to become ‘blood brothers’ by pressing open wounds together.” She stepped forward, reaching for her wrist. “Now. Give me your hand.”

Emma searched her eyes but allowed Regina to take her hand, turning it palm-up. “Will it hurt?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“I will do my best to make sure it doesn’t,” Regina promised, and held out her own hand palm-up.

Within an instant, a gash appeared on each of their palms. Emma flinched at the sight, but surprisingly felt no pain. “Whoa.”

“Hold up your hand,” Regina told her and Emma obeyed, blood starting to trickle down her palm.

Regina laced their fingers together and pressed their palms tight against one another. Emma thought she saw a white light illuminate the queen’s eyes and blank out her own for a moment before the images started.

But these didn’t appear to be Regina’s memories. She wasn’t sure what they were.

One was she and Regina, clinging to each other with an arm each and hanging on to a cable with the other, staring wide-eyed at each other from millimeters away, seemingly dangling in mid-air. _"I’ve got you,”_ she heard Regina whisper in her head.

The next was of the two of them, deep underground, helping to shield each other from a blast of ash and flame that had risen up from somewhere beneath them, the image of a melting sword filling her vision.

The last was the most shocking -- she and Regina in the dark, lips and limbs tangled together -- seemingly in Regina’s bedroom... in her bed. Emma watched her hand slide up Regina’s forearm, which rested on the pillow, until their fingers entwined.

It was that final image that pulled Emma out of it; she opened her eyes to find herself on the ground, breathing heavily just as she did every other time it happened.

Regina was on the other side of the room, her wide eyes cemented on Emma as she pushed herself up. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” Emma breathed, glad that Regina seemed to be as distraught over the images as she was. She scrambled to her feet as they eyed one another awkwardly. “So... so you saw--”

“Yes.” Regina averted her eyes, cheeks pinking. “We-we were--”

“Yeah.”

The queen scoffed. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Totally,” Emma agreed, perhaps a bit too quickly for her liking.

They looked at each other awkwardly another moment more, before Regina straightened up and gave a tug on her suit jacket. “Well, you have magic now,” she concluded, her tone all-business.

“Right.” She’d almost forgotten; she was still trying to clear those last images out of her head. “How do I use it?”

“It’s in your blood. It will be instinctual.”

She nodded slowly. “So now what?”

“There’s not much else to do for the night.”

“Rumplestiltskin’s not going to bust down the door and come after us?”

Regina shook her head. “It’s not his style. He sent his message, so now he’s going to lie in wait. See if we try to seek him out.” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

“Right. Me too.”

The tension remained as they went upstairs, Emma staying behind briefly to turn out all the lights. When she reached the master bedroom, Regina had emerged from the walk-in closet in a long silk nightgown. She stopped short when she noticed her presence and again they exchanged awkward glances.

Emma glanced down at her clothes. “Umm... uh, do you have any spare pajamas I could borrow? I think I’ve worn out most of my tank tops.”

Regina nodded, avoiding eye contact while she fluffed her pillows. “Closet,” she told her simply. “Chest of drawers on the left.”

Emma nodded and headed for the walk-in closet. The chest of drawers Regina had indicated was just inside the doorway. She pulled open the top drawer and wrinkled her nose at her findings: nothing but silk nightgowns of varying length. Not at all her type of bedtime attire.

She checked the next drawer and found only socks, while the next one down yielded different shades of pantyhose. When the bottom drawer showed her nothing but workout clothes, she sighed and resigned herself to the contents of the top drawer, pulling out an ice blue silk nightie.

She undressed quickly, not thinking twice about tossing her clothes in the hamper along with Regina’s things. Then, she shut off the light in the closet and made her way out. “I feel weird in this.”

Regina glanced up with a toss of her hair, smirking briefly. “It’s not your usual nighttime fare, I’ve noticed.” Then as if catching herself, she seemed to blush and look down, still fiddling with her pillows. Had they not been fluffed enough already, or was she nervous about something? “Not that I’ve noticed anything really.”

“Right.”

Another awkward stare passed. Emma almost wished she could pass out right where she was standing if it would let her escape all the tension. “Well, goodnight!” She feigned a smile.

“Yes, goodnight.”

Then the two women climbed in quickly, turned out the lights, and slid as close to their respective edges as they possibly could.

  
*****

Emma stirred early that next morning, content beneath the sheets. There was a general warmth and comfort in the room, one that made her want to stay sleeping. So she sighed and snuggled further against the mattress on her belly, rubbing her face against the sheet.

As she did so, the tip of her nose came in contact with something distinctly non-sheet-like, a puff of breath hitting her lips a moment later. Disoriented, she furrowed her brows and let her eyes flutter open.

When they did, she found herself nose-to-nose with Regina, her arm thrown across the queen’s stomach. Regina laid on her back, one hand covering Emma’s arm while she slept contentedly. Emma’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap,” she muttered, and it was that sound that woke the sleeping queen.

Her brown eyes popped open and she gasped sharply, the two of them jumping away from one another and clutching at the sheets. Regina held them to her collarbone. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing?!”

“Why are you on my side of the bed?”

“Uhh...” Emma glanced around Regina’s form. “You’re actually on my side.”

The queen tossed her hair, looking over her shoulder at all the extra room on her side of the bed. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment, Regina still trying to cover herself with the sheet; though why, Emma didn’t know. It wasn’t as if either of them were naked.

She pressed her lips together and looked down at the pattern on the duvet. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” she said, then quickly scrambled out of bed.

“Right.” Regina got up as well. “Good idea.”

Emma gave her a look, raising her eyebrows pointedly. “Don’t follow me.”

And Regina glared, snipping, “Don’t flatter yourself,” as she pulled on her robe.

**

After they ate breakfast in silence, Emma received a call from her father that he would be dropping Henry off shortly. So Regina made herself scarce, while Emma went outside to wait for them.

‘David Nolan’s’ old pickup truck rolled to a stop and out jumped Henry, running straight for her and nearly knocking the wind out of her with his hug. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Just fine, kid,” she smiled, ruffling his hair.

When she looked up, her smile had faded. “Oh. Hi.” Snow White had come along with him, which she had been trying to avoid.

“Emma dear, are you alright? I had been worried when you asked your father to keep Henry for the night.”

She plastered on a smile. “Everything’s fine. I just thought you guys might have some fun getting to know him a little better.”

“We certainly did,” James smiled, then sent her an apologetic glance when Snow wasn’t looking. “Your, uh, mother wanted to see you, though, to be sure.”

Snow glanced between them. “Is something wrong? I’m getting a strange feeling one of you isn’t telling me something.”

James played off her comment with a smile while Emma did the same, and Henry watched them both for a reaction.

The princess furrowed her brows, eyes narrowed in skepticism before she gave up. “Alright. Well, we were glad to take Henry for the night. We had a lot of fun.”

“Good,” Emma smiled, heart thudding in her ears as she hoped they would leave soon.

“Why don’t we chat for a bit!” Snow suggested then, turning around with a bright smile. “We haven’t seen much of each other, after all. Mind if we come in?”

Henry looked up at his mother, whispering, “The bubble...”

Emma cursed under her breath as Snow and James started toward them. “No... wait!”

But it was too late. Snow White had walked straight into the protection bubble and it shot her back, a loud crack shattering the quiet of the neighborhood. James caught her and they fell against the truck, both of them staring in shock at what had just happened.

“What was that?” asked the prince.

“Magic,” Snow murmured, looking at Emma through her lashes while she straightened up.

Henry leaned against his mother and looked up at her, and Emma gave him an apologetic frown as her hands fell to his shoulders.

Snow kept her gaze leveled on her daughter. “Emma, where did you get magic?”

She exchanged a glance with her father, whose expression seemed to be that of warning or caution, as she opened her mouth to reply. But before she could, the front door of the estate flew open.

“Henry? Emma? I heard something hit the bubble, are you okay?”

Regina was halfway down the front walk when she ground to a halt, locking eyes with her former stepdaughter.

Snow White’s shocked gaze turned murderous. “Regina...” she ground out.

“Snow.”

And Henry glanced up at Emma, cringing a bit as he asked her, “Which one of us is in trouble?”

“I think all of us are, kid,” Emma answered, rubbing his shoulders as she looked from Snow to Regina, awaiting the explosion.

 

**TBC**


	13. Purities and Impurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Heal me,” Regina murmured, and as if in answer, Emma’s hand began to glow.

 

*****

The tension was palpable between the two adversaries. Emma could practically feel the repressed anger and resentment radiating off her mother in waves. She looked up at Prince James, who appeared to be at a loss for what to do as well. The question was clear in both their expressions -- intervene, or let it be?

“You,” Snow growled, taking another step toward the bubble that separated her from Regina.

“Snow...” James called her cautiously.

But she didn’t heed the warning in his tone, stepping right up to where she had felt the blast, eyes centered on the former queen and teeth clenched. “Take down your shield.”

Emma patted her son’s shoulders, keeping her eyes on her mother as she advised, “Henry, maybe you should go inside.”

“But--”

_“Now.”_

Grumbling a bit, Henry made his way up the walk and went inside. Emma knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be watching them from his window, but couldn’t bring herself to care that much. Concern for the situation brewing outside outweighed it by far.

She turned to her mother, holding up her hands in supplication. “Look. I think we’re all pretty stressed. A lot has gone on in the last few days, so maybe if we just talk about--”

 _“Take. Down. The shield,”_ Snow White ground out, eyes still trained on Regina.

Emma drew in a breath, looking over at Regina. Regina swallowed hard, clearly knowing what was coming and accepting her fate. She nodded, glancing down at her hand as it began to crackle with magic.

Emma couldn’t help but think, _Since when did she become such a defeatist?_

Then as if she’d spoken the thought out loud, she heard Regina’s voice in her head in answer: _Only since I’ve been defeated._

She snapped her head over to look at her, eyes wide. How in the hell...

“Well?” Snow White threw up her arms. “Are you going to do it, or not?”

Regina broke gaze with Emma, turning to her former stepdaughter with a lowered, almost too-calm, voice. “Yes, Snow. One moment.”

Emma watched then, as Regina walked up to the bubble, pressing her hand against it. In an instant, the entire bubble was alight with tiny bursts of lightning, like hairline cracks in a mirror. Then all at once, it dissipated and was gone.

Regina’s defenses were down.

The two of them looked to Snow White, and Emma braced herself for what she knew was coming. The princess wasn’t as vulnerable and fragile as she had been portrayed in movies. No, according to Henry’s book, her mother was pretty damn ferocious.

And right at that moment, watching Snow’s chest heave with adrenaline and anger, it was like watching a volcano about to erupt. She glanced to Prince James, who stood tentatively behind the princess, before everything exploded in activity.

Snow White let out a yell and lunged straight for Regina, grabbing the woman by the throat and knocking her to the ground. James ran forward, “Snow, don’t!” while Emma was left frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

Snow took several swings, splitting open Regina’s lower lip with one punch. “How dare you!” she screamed, tears streaming from her eyes. “You took my father! You poisoned me! Imprisoned my only love! You left us no other choice but to _abandon_ our daughter and then you _trapped us here_! You framed me for murder, you treacherous, _horrible witch_!”

Emma and her father dove into the action, attempting to pry the two of them apart. She couldn’t help but notice that Regina wasn’t really swinging back, but attempting to deflect the punches thrown.

Still, she spat back, “ _You_ took my one chance at happiness! My Daniel _died_ because of you! Because you _couldn’t keep your mouth shut_!”

“Regina! Stop! Come on.” Emma reached for her, only to get pushed back by Snow White.

“I was a _little girl_ , Regina! A little girl!”

“Snow! That’s enough!” James tried to get a grip on her, but she kept wrenching her arms from his grasp.

The two women continued to tussle on the ground while Emma and the prince tried hopelessly to separate them. Finally, Emma had had her fill of the display, and she yelled, “ENOUGH!” while stomping her foot.

As she did so, a blast of white light pried Snow White and Regina apart, catapulting them each a few feet. Snow crashed into her husband, the two of them hitting the ground, while Regina fell back and Emma caught her with her arms around her waist.

They exhaled in unison and Emma helped her straighten up, noticing the blood at the corner of her mouth. Regina tossed her hair out of her eyes and composed herself as best she could, while Snow and James got to their feet.

“You used magic...” Snow White murmured.

“Yeah.” She tried not to cringe.

The princess’ eyes turned once more to Regina. “You did this, didn’t you.” It was neither a statement nor a question, and it appeared to throw Regina off momentarily.

“Alright.” Emma physically stepped between them, breaking their gaze. “Before this turns into another barroom brawl, why don’t we go inside and talk.”

Snow White turned up her nose just slightly. “I will not speak to her after all that she’s done.”

“Well then you can sit there and act like a child while the rest of us talk.”

James stepped forward, a hint of a proud smile on his lips as he told his daughter, “Lead the way.”

His wife gaped at him. “Charming...”

And as James followed Regina and Emma into the house, Emma overheard him turning back to the princess and telling her lowly, “This has gone on long enough, Snow. It’s time to put an end to all this madness.”

**

Once they were inside, Emma directed her parents toward the dining room, excusing herself and Regina momentarily while they went upstairs into the master bathroom. Seconds later, Henry came bounding in, looking gleeful. “That was so cool!”

Emma sighed. “Henry, that was _not_ cool.” She reached into a free-standing linen cabinet and pulled out a washcloth, taking it to the sink.

Meanwhile, Regina took a seat on the toilet lid. “Henry, dear, why don’t you go downstairs and keep them company. We’ll be down in a moment.”

“Okay.” He shrugged off their moods and ran down the stairs. He could then be heard congratulating Snow White on her punch.

Emma stifled a chuckle. “Sorry about him. I told him to go inside.”

“He’s a boy,” Regina sighed. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, I’m sure in his mind I got what I had coming.”

Emma frowned, looking into the mirror at Regina’s reflection while she wrung out the washcloth. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

Regina made a noise that she couldn’t decipher, some sort of a grunt that was neither affirmative nor dissenting. Then the queen waited not a beat before pressing on. “Well done with the magic, by the way.”

“I didn’t even mean to do it. I just... wanted it to stop.”

“As I said, since it’s in your blood now, it will just be instinct. Almost involuntary, sometimes. Like blinking or breathing.”

Her brows flicked upward. “So I’ll have to learn to control it.”

“You will. With time.”

“Here.” Emma brought her the washcloth, placing it in her hand. “For your lip.”

Regina tilted her head, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “You know you could just wave your hand and I’d be healed.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Emma smirked back, “But I prefer the tried-and-true method.”

“I see.” Regina took the cloth and dabbed at her split lip, wincing just slightly.

It was then Emma noticed the gash on her temple. “Wow, looks like her ring did a number on you.”

“First-aid supplies are under the sink,” she told her, still lightly pressing the cloth to her lip.

“Thanks.” She returned with the kit a moment later. “You’ve got a lot of band-aids under there.”

Regina hummed a smile. “Henry was a bit accident-prone when he first learned to ride a bicycle. Skinned knees were somewhat of a common occurrence around here.”

Emma felt a short pang to her heart at that comment, though she wasn’t sure why. Sadness over the experiences she never got to have with her own son, or sadness over the experiences Regina treasured and Henry disregarded. It could have been either one.

“Yeah, I was kind of a disaster with bikes when I was a kid, too,” she commented, kneeling in front of the toilet and taking out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide as well as some cotton swabs. “My foster parents never let me have my own, of course, but... sometimes they’d let me ride their other kids’ bikes.”

“I’m sorry,” Regina frowned.

Emma made a face. “About what?” Then, she held up the cotton ball and commented as an aside, “This might sting.”

Regina nodded and let her press it to her temple, hissing slightly. Then, as Emma dabbed at the cut, she felt the queen’s eyes on her. “I’m sorry you grew up in the foster system.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t bad _all_ the time. I made it through.”

“But it’s my fault you never knew your real parents.”

The softness in Regina’s voice gave Emma pause. She pulled back to meet her eyes, searching them. “Do you... feel bad about that?”

Regina held her gaze, taking in a slow breath. “I... think so. Is that bad?”

Emma couldn’t help but smile. “No. That’s a good thing. It’s definitely a good thing.”

After another moment or two of dabbing at Regina’s cut, she went to grab a band-aid, only to have Regina stop her with her hand on her wrist. “No. Wait.”

Off her look, Regina smiled. “I know you prefer the tried-and-true method, but my method can achieve instant results. Give me your hand.” She held out her own.

Emma did so with a skeptical look, watching Regina turn it over so her hand was facing palm-up.

“Heal me,” Regina murmured, and as if in answer, Emma’s hand began to glow.

It was a shimmering, rippling blue, like pool water. She was mesmerized momentarily before lifting it to Regina’s face, cupping the side of her head. As she watched, the cut on Regina’s temple grew smaller and smaller, until all that was left behind was soft, flawless skin.

“Wow,” she murmured. “I can do that?”

Regina nodded. “That’s white magic. Performing it will be of second nature to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the product of the most powerful magic there is.” She shrugged one shoulder. “For all intents and purposes, Emma...” She looked up and met her eyes. “You _are_ magic. Pure magic.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. For some reason, that comment made her feel... nice. It was the only way she could think to describe it. It was some warm, ambient feeling in her chest.

And she still had her hand on Regina’s face.

Emma moved to take her hand away when Regina murmured, “My lips.”

“What?” Startled, her eyes snapped to the queen’s.

Regina’s smile was catlike... almost knowing. “Heal them, please.”

“Oh.” Emma exhaled nervously, though she couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her nervousness. So instead she ignored it, watching her thumb as it skated across Regina’s lower lip, healing the split instantly.

She was unprepared, however, for the arc of electricity that seemed to hit them both at the touch. She heard Regina’s soft intake of breath and she lifted her eyes. Regina turned her eyes up to hers, looking at her through her lashes, and Emma felt... something.

It was almost an attraction, as ridiculous as that idea was. Still, she couldn’t quite take her eyes off Regina’s lips. She’d always admired their fullness. Envied it, even.

“Emma...” Regina murmured, and she felt her heart bump into her throat.

“Hmm?” She came out of it to realize she was still stroking Regina’s lower lip with her thumb.

“I think we should get back downstairs.” Her smile was wry and slightly rueful as she added, “Your parents will think I’ve done something terrible to you otherwise.”

Emma yanked her hand back, attempting to get her heartbeat under control, as well as the thoughts racing a mile a minute in her head. What was happening to her? Did Regina feel these strange impulses and emotions as well? And what about the slightly impure thoughts? Where did they come from all of a sudden?

She swallowed. “Right.”

She remained where she was as Regina got to her feet and brushed past. And Emma didn’t miss the almost coy look she received over her shoulder before the queen disappeared down the stairs.

She still wasn’t sure what was happening here, but she was certain Regina held the power to destroy her sanity.

One way or another.

 

**TBC**


	14. United

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma knew that later she would tell herself it was the wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song referenced in this chapter is "Drive" by Dawn Landes.

  
*****

The prince and princess were seated stiffly at the dining room table, Snow White’s face set in a scowl while James looked anxious. Across from them sat Henry, smiling up at Regina and Emma, his feet swinging under the table.

Emma felt the tension in the room as thick and cloying as stepping through cobwebs. At her side stood Regina, and she swore she was hallucinating that she could feel Regina’s pulse racing in the movement of her own blood.

“Well,” she finally broke the silence, looking to her parents. “Thank you for coming inside to... attempt to resolve this.”

James looked over at Snow, who folded her arms across her chest and looked down at the surface of the table. It was neither a bad sign nor was it good, and Emma chose to push forward as if she’d received a verbal response, taking a seat at the table.

“Obviously I’m sure you guys have a lot of questions...”

Snow White slowly lifted her head, eyes glinting with disapproval as she asked, “Where did you get magic?”

“From me,” Regina spoke up, gathering the attention of the princess.

Emma watched as Snow pressed her palms into the table, as if to push herself up for a confrontation. Before she could, James clamped a hand around her wrist, stopping her. When she looked to him, he gave a barely-noticeable shake of the head and she sat back again.

Henry glanced at Emma, making a face. “Do I have to go upstairs again?”

Keeping her eyes trained on her mother, Emma shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Because everybody is going to be civil.” She raised her eyebrows at the feisty brunette across the table. “Right?”

James nodded immediately and answered, “Right.”

She threw a glance at Regina, whose arms were folded across herself as she nodded and murmured, “Right.”

Snow was the last one, all eyes on her before she finally huffed and relented. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Then, she tilted her head. “Now, to get back to your question... as Regina said, she was the one that gave me the ability to use magic.”

“Why?”

“In order to protect Henry.”

“What about your bubble?” Snow narrowed her eyes at the former queen.

Regina made her way to the table, releasing her elbows from the grip of her hands as she sat down beside Emma, explaining on a sigh, “It can be breached. By one person.”

Emma nodded, looking to her mother and adding, “The one person we were trying to keep out at all costs.”

James furrowed his brow. “Who?”

“Rumplestiltskin.”

That made them pause. Emma watched as they glimpsed sidelong at each other.

Before either one of them could say anything, Regina leaned on the table slightly, lowering her voice. “Whether you choose to believe it or not, Snow, Rumplestiltskin is the only threat here.”

“Really.” Skepticism laid heavy in the princess’ voice, and she leaned back in her chair, arms across her chest once more.

“Yes.”

Emma just watched the interplay, again exchanging a glance with her father, each silently wondering if another intervention would be needed shortly.

“So you’re just...” She made a face, waving one hand flippantly before tucking it under her elbow once more, “You’re just done with your crimes of vengeance, then. You’re done trying to get even with me for the unforgivable act I committed when I was too young to know any better. You’re done with all of that and you’re fighting the ‘good fight’ now, is that what you’re telling me?”

Emma looked over at the queen, studied her as she seemed to hesitate. She could practically see the wheels turning in Regina’s mind, those last threads of anger still desperately trying to keep her down.

She dipped her head slightly, calling to her cautiously, “Regina...?”

Then, she seemed to come back to herself. She looked up at the princess, blinking herself back to composure. Then, she replied stoically, but definitively, “Yes.”

And while James and Emma looked relieved at hearing her answer, Snow White’s brows just furrowed all the more deeply as she shook her head. “Why would you do that?”

“Henry,” she answered simply. “I love him more than anything and would do whatever it takes to protect him.”

Emma felt Henry glance over at her sharply, and she said nothing though she quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say, _“See?”_

Henry ducked his head and Emma glanced at her parents once more, noting James’ nod. “Well that’s noble of you, Regina,” he said, and Emma had to wonder just why he was so ready to forgive this woman that had done everything in her power to vanquish their happiness.

Snow White seemed to share her confusion as she threw a sharp look at her husband. “Charming, what are you talking about? It’s not noble! It’s a convenient excuse.” She glared at Regina. “A leopard can’t change her spots.”

Regina sat back in her chair, bristling and narrowing her eyes. Emma felt the tension whip through her and she immediately had her hackles up, the need to preserve the goodness starting to make its way out suddenly overwhelming. To her mother, she said, “She can if it’s her only means of survival.”

“And if she doesn’t care about surviving?”

Regina’s right hand slapped down onto the table, gathering the attention of everyone else in the dining room. Emma looked over to find her eyes closed and head bowed while she struggled for composure. After a moment, she looked up, her brown eyes heavy with repressed adrenaline.

“Can we please stop referring to me in mixed metaphors? I am not a leopard,” she looked to Snow White, “and while I no longer care much about my own survival, Henry’s is of the utmost importance.” Her voice lowered, tone grave as she told her former stepdaughter, “A war is brewing, Snow. Surely you feel it as much as we do,” she threw a glance at Emma, “and the only way of persevering will be through uniting the kingdom.”

Emma swallowed hard as she watched the exchange, her mind still stuck on Regina’s earlier comment: _‘I no longer care much about my own survival.’_ It made her heart pound and sink all in the same split-second. If there was ever a doubt in her mind, it was gone now: Regina had no ambition to survive whatever was coming, and she was ready to die.

James lowered his head slightly, capturing the former queen’s gaze. “And you, Regina, are willing to put aside all differences in order to accomplish that union? No tricks?”

Regina nodded slowly. “No tricks.”

“Good. And Snow?” James prompted, raising a brow. “Can you also abide by those terms?”

Emma glanced at her mother, who had been studying Regina intensely through this entire exchange. Her brows were knit in confusion and skepticism, and it was clear those last threads of doubt over Regina’s change of heart still clung to her.

“Yes,” she replied lowly, after a long moment.

Emma let out the breath she’d been holding, a smile edging past, while James sat back in satisfaction. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed.

She glanced over at Regina, mouthing a “Thank you” at her and Regina nodded back. After a moment, Regina’s eyes drifted downward and Emma’s followed, her heart bumping into her throat when she saw their hands, clasped together between their chairs. Uncertain just how long they’d been sitting like that, she wiggled her fingers, starting to slide them away.

But her heart jumped once more when Regina held tight, lacing their fingers together tightly. Emma met her eyes once more and Regina gave her a smile. The silent exchange went unnoticed by the other three in the room, for which Emma was grateful, while they settled in to discuss specifics.

  
*****

Once a plan had been formulated, it was well past sundown. The prince and princess had stayed for both lunch and dinner by the time they had covered enough ground to call it a night. As a first step, it was decided that Emma and Regina would return to the library, with James’ accompaniment, to retrieve his sword from underground.

Then, Regina would spend the next day at the house with Henry while Emma and her parents sought out Rumplestiltskin, all three feigning a desire to find and kill the ‘evil queen’ once and for all. So Snow and James took their leave and returned to their loft, while Regina headed out back and Emma put Henry to bed.

“So you really think she’s changed, huh?” he asked, pulling at his sheet and blanket.

Emma took a seat on the edge of his bed, one brow quirked. “What, after today you’re still not convinced?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I kinda agree with Snow White - it’s pretty convenient.”

She sighed. “Kid, I don’t know what it’s gonna take to show you that Regina really does love you. You should hear the way she talks about you when you’re not around.”

“But she _is_ the evil queen. And you saw what she did when she was the mayor. She’s pretty good at fooling people.”

“Yeah, well,” Emma tilted her head, “this time, I think she’s being honest.”

“I still don’t trust her.”

“Do you trust me?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

She smiled. “Good. So then I want you to trust me when I say, the evil queen might not be so evil anymore.”

She paused when she heard music start to drift up from downstairs. Regina was clearly in another somber mood out on the swing.

Henry turned on his side, nestling into his pillow. “You should go sit with her.”

Emma studied the back of her son’s head, wondering just how perceptive and intuitive he was, before she nodded and murmured, “Yeah, I think I will. I’ll see how she’s doing with all of this.”

They said their goodnights then and she turned out the light, leaving Henry’s door open just a crack before she ventured downstairs.

Just like the last time, a record spun lazily on the turntable near the back door, soft guitar melodies flowing out.

_You’ve had a hard time living with a hard heart_

She pushed on the screen door, the soft creak alerting Regina of her presence. A full wine glass was extended to her before she even reached the swing.

_You hardly feel a thing, and you don’t know where to start_

Emma accepted the glass with a smile, watching as Regina made room for her this time and slid over. She took a seat and sent them rocking, while the Merlot flowed over her tastebuds. “You okay?”

The singer on tonight’s record lamented about wanting something and running away from it, but being unable to change a thing. Regina seemingly had a knack for choosing songs with rather applicable lyrics.

“I think so,” she murmured after a moment, holding her wine glass to her chest as she looked out at the apple tree. “For all intents and purposes I shouldn’t be. I should be grappling for another way out, another curse, but... I’m not.” She looked over at her, her dark eyes large with confusion and concern. “Is that a bad thing?”

Emma almost chuckled at the look on her face -- so worried at the lack of evil intent -- and shook her head, taking another sip of her wine. “It’s a good thing,” she told her as she covered her hand with her own, an echo of their earlier conversation in the master bathroom. “It’s definitely a good thing.”

Regina nodded, swallowing hard, and squeezed her hand before letting it go. Emma watched the motion as their hands separated... though not completely. The rested on the bench swing, pinky fingers lightly touching. After a few seconds passed, Regina’s twined itself around Emma’s.

Emma flicked her eyes up to her counterpart’s, who had been looking out at the apple tree again. “What?” she murmured, meeting her eyes.

Emma said nothing, just threw a glance down at their pinkies laced together. She heard Regina draw in a breath before she drew her hand back into her lap.

“Things are changing,” Regina murmured, taking another gulp of wine.

Emma followed her lead, practically draining the rest of her glass. “Yeah, they are.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening here,” the former queen confessed, and they met eyes once again.

She tried to interpret the comment -- did Regina mean she didn’t understand what was happening in Storybrooke, with this tentative ‘union’ struck between the prince and princess, or at the shifting paradigm between the two of them? Ultimately, it didn’t matter, she realized. She felt equal confusion about all those same things. So she swallowed her nerves and told Regina, “Good.”

Off her confused look, she smiled. “When all of this started, you were always a few steps ahead of me. I gotta say, it’s kinda nice to be on the same wavelength.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Regina glanced down into her now-empty wine glass, setting it aside. “Though I must say, I don’t know how long I can keep up.”

Emma watched as she tucked a slice of dark hair behind one ear, her eyes then drifting toward Regina’s lips. Once again she found herself almost hypnotized, her heart thudding in her chest. “I’ll help you,” she replied, surprised that her voice emerged nary louder than a whisper. “I want you to keep up.”

Regina held her gaze. “Why?”

Emma knew that later she would tell herself it was the wine. It was the stress of the day, coupled with the added adrenaline of having magical ability. But for now, all she knew was the overwhelming need that made her lean into Regina and capture her lips in a kiss.

 

**TBC**


	15. Onward and Downward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina’s lips were a livewire, sending sparks traveling through her veins.

 

*****

The response to her kiss was instant, though not at all what Emma expected. Regina’s supple lips opened beneath her own and for a moment she allowed herself to get lost in sensation. But the moment was brief, and she was lost for mere seconds before common sense found her once again.

She pulled back, apologies tumbling forth in hurried whispers and murmurs: she didn’t know what was happening, she was sorry, she didn’t know why she did it, it was just a weird impulse and oh God she was so sorry.

Her incessant mutterings were finally halted when Regina held up two hands, looking annoyed. “Do you suppose I could have a moment to say something here?”

Emma stopped, finally allowing herself to meet Regina’s eyes despite the embarrassment still tugging at her and turning her cheeks pink. “Sure, sorry. Go ahead.”

Then Regina’s hands were on her face, pulling her in again and they were connecting once more. This second kiss was electric; Regina’s lips were a livewire, sending sparks traveling through her veins.

Emma felt like a plasma globe, waves of static electricity emanating from her very being and gathering where Regina’s hands rested: one on her face and the other on the curve of her hip. Lips bruised and sparred for dominance. Regina tasted of red wine, after-dinner mints and lipstick, and Emma found she rather enjoyed the combination. Her fingers dove into the queen’s dark strands, reveling in the soft thickness.

Finally, they broke for air, confusion making itself comfortable between them. She could think of nothing more intelligible to say than, “Well-said.”

Regina smirked, instantly drawing focus to her kiss-chapped lips. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent speaker.”

Emma shivered, surprised by the sharp need that slid down her spine. She wanted to kiss Regina again. Why? “I don’t understand what’s happening here,” she murmured, an echo of the queen’s previous statement.

Regina shook her head. “Nor do I.”

“We shouldn’t kiss each other.”

“I agree.”

“We were supposed to hate each other.”

“Naturally.”

“But we don’t anymore. Right?”

“Right,” Regina nodded, holding her gaze. “I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you, either.”

“And I believe that has largely to do with Henry,” Regina reasoned.

Emma nodded her agreement. “I think so too.” Furrowing her brows, she went on, “But--”

“Yes. But it doesn’t explain the kissing aspect.” After a moment, she lifted her dark eyes, quirking an eyebrow. “In all fairness, you kissed me first.”

She allowed herself to chuckle at that. “Maybe. But then I stopped, and _you_ kissed _me_.”

“True.”

Silence settled over them again, each pair of eyes downcast to their laps. They were still seated close to one another, well within each other’s personal space, but far enough away that Emma was able to keep her head.

“I don’t understand why I...” She sighed, shrugging. “Did that. I mean, why I felt like I just _had_ to, for just a second.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Regina commented, tilting her head.

Emma’s gaze drifted to her neck, the soft skin exposed and suddenly inviting. “It’s like an itch,” she reasoned, unable to take her eyes off the queen’s throat.

Regina nodded, her own eyes making a slow path over her counterpart. “The kind that doesn’t stop even if you pretend you’re not dying to scratch it.”

“Right. So...” She lifted her eyes. “What do we do?”

“Well...” Regina cut her eyes to the side, one elbow propped on the back of the swing and legs tucked up beside her. Thoughtfully, she pursed her lips, and again Emma found herself entranced by the sight. Finally, their eyes met once more. “I think _I_ , personally, am going to leave this decision to you.”

“Me?”

She nodded. “It seems a choice is necessary: between what we _should_ do and what we _want_ to do.”

Emma nodded her understanding. Hormones and common sense rarely _did_ go hand-in-hand. A choice was necessary; trouble was, she didn’t know what the hell she was going to do.

While she was struggling, Regina leaned in and kissed her slowly... gently, but just enough to reignite the spark. When she pulled away, it was just far enough to meet Emma’s eyes, her own dark and smoky. “I’m going to go upstairs to bed,” she murmured. “If you join me, well...”

She trailed off and Emma watched a smile spread; it was something she had only seen on the mayor-slash-queen one other time; her brief congratulatory smile when she won the election for sheriff.

“Then I’ll know your answer.”

Then she took their empty wine glasses and went inside, throwing Emma a look over her shoulder as she went. Once she was out of sight, Emma let out the breath she’d been holding, and sat back hard on the swing. It rocked with her momentum and she just stared out at the apple tree, contemplating the swift turn of events over the last twenty-four hours.

Somehow in the last day, she and Regina had apparently become quite attracted to one another; or at least attracted enough to want to share kisses. She thought of everything they had been through from the moment they met and supposed there was always a tiny sliver of her that was drawn to Regina.

It had never been this overt, this bone-deep before, however. Why now? Was it the proximity, being holed up together in the estate? They had always kept a respectable, if a bit terse, distance between them. Now that they were thrown together in such close quarters, she supposed that could lend way to stirring up feelings.

But that was ridiculous. She and Regina suddenly feeling things for each other, getting urges to kiss and to touch, just didn’t make sense. The urges she’d been stricken with in the early days of her stay in Storybrooke mostly involved wanting to pull the mayor’s hair or wanting to punch her in the face. And now she wanted to run her fingers through the mayor’s hair and dust kisses to her face? It didn’t add up.

She made her way inside, turning off lights as she went before she ascended the staircase. The door to the master bedroom was left partially ajar and Emma lingered on the top few steps, contemplating the decision she needed to make.

If she joined Regina in the bedroom, what the hell would happen? Sex? And then what? No, she needed to make sense of all of this first. She’d never taken the act very seriously, but something about all this seemed quite serious. And it needed straightening out.

Then she considered the repercussions of _not_ going to the bedroom. There would be more tension, certainly. Possibly some anger on Regina’s part. Would she lash out? Return to her conniving ways? Or would she respect Emma’s decision and work with her to figure out whatever was happening here?

Emma closed her eyes, sighing, and then she gripped the banister and pushed herself toward Henry’s room. She couldn’t do it. There was too much up in the air, and too much at stake to just let hormones and a possibly-fleeting desire take the lead.

She just hoped Regina would understand.

  
*****

Emma awoke to the sensation of being watched. She frowned, eyes still closed, and pulled the thin blanket up to her chin. The feeling only intensified. So she slowly let her eyes flutter open, gasping sharply when Henry’s wide eyes were just inches away.

“Jeez! Kid!” she groaned. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing in my room?”

He sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, leaning over far enough that Emma thought he might fall off. His elbows rested casually on the inside of his knees and his head was tilted at her curiously.

She huffed, pushing herself up on one elbow and rubbing her eyes with her free hand. “Well, I _was_ sleeping.”

Henry just frowned at her. “How come you’re not in the big bedroom? With Regina?” As if realization struck, his eyes suddenly widened. “Did she try to suffocate you in your sleep?”

Emma couldn’t help the groggy chuckle that escaped. “No, she didn’t try to suffocate me.”

“Well then--”

“Just don’t worry about it, okay?” she told him, grunting slightly as she rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up, grabbing the sheet and blanket along the way.

What Henry didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. In fact, knowing would just confuse the hell out of him. Emma couldn’t even make sense of last night -- expecting a ten-year-old to be able to figure it out would’ve been ridiculous.

But predictably, the boy didn’t just let it go that easily. “Did you guys have a fight?”

Once her back was turned, Emma raised her brows. “No, we definitely did not have a fight.”

She felt her son just silently contemplating the back of her head but chose to ignore it, and she turned around with a plastered-on smile. “Breakfast?”

**

Regina was already up and moving around in the kitchen by the time they got downstairs. Henry practically vaulted onto one of the barstools at the island, exclaiming, “Cereal, please!”

Regina threw him a look, but a small smirk broke through. “Good morning to you too.”

“Morning, Regina,” Emma greeted, more as a means to test the water than anything else.

And the queen averted her gaze, cupping her coffee mug as she returned a distant, “Good morning, Miss Swan,” and set about getting Henry’s bowl of cereal.

She tried not to roll her eyes. Obviously, she was upset. The sudden return to formality was evidence enough.

“Here you go,” Regina told her son, sliding a bowl of milk-drenched corn flakes his way. Then, she lifted her eyes to Emma’s. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Oh! Uh, sure, thanks!” She attempted a smile, hoping that was a good sign.

Regina nodded and went to the cupboard, retrieving a mug and setting it down on the counter. She waved toward it, sighing flippantly, “There you go,” before she brushed past and made her way back upstairs.

Emma tilted her head admonishingly but it went unnoticed by the queen. Her hand planted on her hip and she watched her disappear up the staircase, finally turning back to her son.

He just pressed his lips together, raising his eyebrows. Giving her a little smirk, he asked, “What did you do?”

Sighing, Emma rolled her eyes ruefully and told him, “Nothing,” and excused herself from the kitchen.

She headed for the master bedroom on autopilot, knowing that was Regina’s destination. When she stepped inside, Regina was busy making the bed, still clad in her bathrobe. She either hadn’t noticed, or chose to ignore, Emma’s presence, so she closed the door to get the queen’s attention.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

Regina paused her manic smoothing of the bedspread, tossing her hair as she straightened her spine. She glanced over her shoulder while she fluffed one of the pillows, just watching her expectantly.

Emma took another step forward. “I just... thought it would be best to sleep on it. Separately.” Shrugging, she threw up a hand. “I mean, what happened was so... sudden, and-and... random. And a big huge ‘first’ for me,” she raised her brows. Lifting her eyes to meet Regina’s, she told her softly, “I just wanted to give myself - and you - a little time to figure things out before rushing into anything else. Y’know?” She chuckled lightly. “I mean, it would’ve been a huge mistake.”

She watched as an inexplicable expression flitted across Regina’s features briefly -- some combination of sadness, dejection and cold detachment that she couldn’t quite decipher. Then, Regina blinked a few times and it was gone. In its place was a mask that she’d seen several times before. The mayoral smile with barely-repressed irritation hiding behind it. “You’re right. That would have been quite the disaster.”

Emma frowned, pushing away the momentary sting the comment invoked, and she nodded. “Yeah. So... maybe we should just pretend it never happened.”

Another flick of the hair, another few blinks, and the faux smile widened. “Pretend what never happened?”

She nodded slowly, eying Regina a bit cautiously. “Right.”

Regina went back to straightening the bed then, and Emma hesitated just a moment before she left, sighing to herself, “This oughtta go well.”

  
*****

Another day was spent walking on eggshells around Regina. The queen remained cordial, but still a little distant and curt. Emma didn’t have the energy to fight her, too busy wondering what in the hell had happened between them the night before.

Just after dinnertime, Snow and James arrived. She and Regina greeted each other awkwardly, if a bit tersely, exchanging uneasy glances every few seconds. Henry either took no notice of all the tension between the adults or happily ignored it, excitedly greeting his grandparents and pulling Snow up to his room to page through the fairytale book she’d given him so long ago.

When they were out of earshot, James studied his daughter and the former queen. “Ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be, I suppose,” Regina answered, tugging on her jacket in that no-nonsense manner of hers before marching for the door.

Against her better judgment, Emma caught her arm on the way to the door. “Hey, wait.”

Regina gave her a look, part exasperation and part hurt, her eyes drifting to the hand on her arm. Emma drew it back to her side before asking, “Should you really just be walking out there as yourself?”

She shrugged. “I see no reason to hide any longer.”

Emma raised her eyebrows, eyes wide in disbelief. “You don’t? Because I can think of a few.” She grabbed her arm again.

And again, Regina eyed her in warning, this time jerking her arm away. “This isn’t your decision.”

Throwing a surreptitious glance at the prince, who feigned a sudden interest in one of the nearby bonsai trees, Emma turned back to her counterpart, lowering her voice. “If the people in town spot you and realize you’re still in Storybrooke, they are going to storm this house. That puts Henry in danger, which _makes it my decision_.”

Regina’s answering glare was sharp, and her nostrils flared momentarily, but she made no further protests. Instead, she just sighed and closed her eyes. In mere moments, she was consumed with black smoke, and a raven appeared in her place.

The prince turned around, asking his daughter, “Where did Regina go?”

The raven flapped its wings, and Emma heard Regina’s voice in her head, just as she had when she was disguised as a cat. _“I’m right here.”_

“That’s her,” Emma told him, pointing to the raven.

James furrowed his brows, opening his mouth to question, but Emma wasn’t particularly in the mood to explain. “Let’s go.”

**

They walked rather than taking the car, the raven leading the way, flying overhead. Whenever they spotted one of the citizens of Storybrooke, Emma would throw a glance up at the raven, who would then land on a street lamp or a store awning until they were in the clear.

Ruby had been the first to greet them. “Emma!” The girl had thrown her arms around her, eyes wide in relief. “We had no idea what happened to you! We thought Regina had gotten to you!”

“No, no. Regina is... long gone,” she lied, plastering on a smile as she slipped her hands into her back pockets.

“Good. Because Gran’s having all she can do not to hunt her down,” Ruby sighed, her hand on her chest. “She’s been spending so much time whittling lately. She says it’s for a new bow and arrow.” Pursing her lips, she added, “Says she wants to do some target practice on the queen.”

“Well,” Emma tilted her head, smiling ruefully. “Good luck finding her.” She gestured to James. “We’ve been looking for her ever since the curse broke, haven’t we?” She raised her brows at him.

“Y-Yes, we have.” James folded his arms across his chest. “We’ve searched extensively, all through Storybrooke. Can’t find any trace of her.”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure she’s hiding out in her castle. If only we knew how to get back there.”

“Right.”

They bid Ruby farewell shortly thereafter and continued on their way toward the library. Emma took out the ring of skeleton keys Regina had given her ahead of time, struggling to find the correct one.

“Two more to the left,” Regina told her, materializing suddenly beside her.

Emma’s eyes widened, and she looked around for any traces of Ruby or other curse victims. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.

“Oh please, it would’ve taken you an hour to find the right one,” Regina huffed, grabbing the key ring from her and inserting the correct one into the lock.

The three of them stepped into the dark library, Regina hitting the light switch on the wall.

Emma was still eying her in disbelief. “Should you really be taking such huge risks, being out in the open like that?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Oh stop being so paranoid.”

“I’m not being paranoid! I’m concerned about Henry!”

James glanced between the two of them. “Everything alright?”

“Fine,” they responded in unison, not taking their eyes off each other.

Regina brushed past her, heading for the wall of mirrors, shaped like a tree. Just as she had before the curse broke, she pressed her palm to one specific place on the mirror and it began to rise, revealing the old elevator.

James jumped back just slightly. “Wow.”

Regina ignored his surprise, remaining that regal, stoic air. “We’ll need you to operate the elevator while we go down to retrieve your sword.”

“Why are you going down?” Emma asked, knowing their original agreement was that the both of them would go down, but feeling uncertain in light of recent events.

“As I’ve said,” Regina sighed, arms folded across herself as the doors opened. “Magic here is unpredictable. Particularly now that it has returned in its entirety.”

She stepped onto the elevator and Emma followed, throwing her father a cautious look, which he returned, before the grate slid closed, confining them. “What does that mean?”

Regina tossed her hair, glancing at Emma as she opened her mouth to reply. Just as she did, the elevator pitched and began to plummet downward at a quick clip. They grabbed for each other instinctively; then, once they had regained their bearings, Regina dropped her arms.

“It means, quite simply, that Maleficent may be alive down there again.”

Emma swallowed hard, not particularly fond of the idea of having to slay a dragon, again. The first time had been dumb luck. What the hell would she do now? “So now what?”

Regina pursed her lips and quirked a brow, tilting her head. “Onward and downward.”

“Right, yeah.” Emma turned to face the doors, the air as they fell whipping her hair around. She repeated Regina’s mantra, “Onward and downward,” trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.

 

**TBC**

 


	16. Maleficent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Love is the only magic stronger than the darkest curse. It broke yours, didn’t it? Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

 

  
*****

The elevator shuddered as it hit the ground, a loud metallic groan echoing around them as they pulled the grate open.

“Where did you leave it?” Regina asked, the sword her implication.

Emma looked around. “It was pretty dark down here the last time, so I can’t say for sure. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably in a giant pile of ash where a dragon used to be.”

The queen threw her a look, clearly unamused by her sarcasm. “Ever-so-helpful, thank you.”

She just shrugged, shooting back, “You asked.”

Regina hummed shortly, looking around. “Remind me not to next time.”

Emma caught her arm again. “Look, what’s with you?”

She jerked her arm away, grinding out, “Nothing.”

“Right,” she quipped, tilting her head and planting her hands on her hips as a wry smirk tugged at one corner of her lips. “So you’re back to your ‘sunny disposition’ for no reason at all.”

“I don’t see why my disposition has any relevance right now. We’re here to retrieve your father’s sword, Miss Swan,” she narrowed her eyes, adding in a deadpan tone, “We’re not here for couples’ counseling.”

She waited for Regina to brush past her before she rolled her eyes, tilting her head back momentarily. She was almost thankful, in a way, for this brief flicker of “normalcy” between them. Things had been shifting so rapidly since the breaking of the curse that she’d barely been able to keep up. This temporary return to their original dynamic was a welcome relief.

“We should’ve brought flashlights,” she commented, her hand starting to glow a brilliant white before she could blink. She glanced down at it in surprise before glancing to Regina.

Regina simply quirked an eyebrow and reminded her, “Second nature.”

“Right.” Emma watched her glowing hand as the white light surrounding it began to gather. It formed a small ball of light and began rising off her palm, until it floated in mid-air just a few feet above her head. “So what do I do with this?”

“Just let it follow us,” Regina told her. “It can light our way.”

They began to search around in silence, Emma looking every which way for that pile of ash from which she’d grabbed that golden egg. The ball of light followed them as they moved, hovering in darker corners. “I don’t see anything,” she called to her counterpart. “Do you?”

As she looked up, the ball of light flew toward Regina, who was standing near a glass box of some sort. It was a strange shape; she recalled seeing it when she had been down there dealing with the dragon, but didn’t have time to figure out what it was. Woven between the pieces of glass were vines and branches. It was a very intricate design, and Regina was staring at it as if seeing a ghost.

“What is that?” she asked.

“It was where they put your mother,” she murmured, her hand tracing the woodwork. “After she took a bite of the apple. Before your father found her.”

Emma stared at it with her eyes wide in realization. She’d read the story a thousand times before, both as a girl and since she’d met Henry. And in every version of the tale, there was this: the glass coffin the seven dwarves had built for Snow White. “Whoa.”

“There’s the sword,” Regina broke into her thoughts before she could ask further questions, pointing just a few feet away.

Sure enough, there laid Prince James’ sword. But something was missing. Emma furrowed her brows. “Where are the ashes?”

A high-pitched giggle echoed throughout the underground. Emma glanced up and around for the source, but couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. She looked to Regina as another giggle bounced around the caves. “What the hell is that?”

Regina held her gaze. “It’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Maleficent,” answered a third voice, a musical lilt.

Emma looked up and just a few yards away stood a woman with curly blonde hair, long violet robes, and a bejeweled horned headpiece. Not the dragon she’d been expecting. She held a staff in one hand, a smile curling her lips.

Her gaze settled on Regina and she murmured sweetly, “Hello, old friend.”

Emma looked to Regina, able to feel the tension in her just inches away. “Regina...”

“Stay close,” Regina told her sotto voce, low enough that Maleficent couldn’t pick up on it.

“What was that, dear? It’s wonderful to see you again. It’s been so long since we’ve spent time together _in person_...” She tilted her head. “Wouldn’t you say?”

She watched as Regina engaged in this subtext-filled banter, plastering on a smile. “You’re looking well, Maleficent.”

The sorceress smiled, blinking demurely. “Why thank you, Reggie darling. I _feel_ well. The best I’ve felt in years, as a matter of fact.”

“Is that right.” Regina’s lip curled, and Emma couldn’t tell if it was a smile or a sneer.

“Mm-hmm.” She studied Regina, shaking her head slowly as she ‘tsk’-ed. “You, however, are looking a bit tired. Dark Curse got you down?”

Emma felt the former queen tense and straighten at her side. Without moving her head, she chanced a glimpse, noting the thin line in which Regina had set her lips.

Maleficent smiled. “You thought I was merely blowing smoke, didn’t you? But I was right. There’s a void in you, Regina. Just like I told you.” She stepped forward, the sound of her staff hitting stone echoing all around them. “The Dark Curse was never going to bring you happiness. Only despair.”

“Stop,” Regina ground out, teeth clenched and bared.

“Why?” A chortle escaped. “You know it’s true.” She tilted her head once more. “Did you ever invest in a pet as I had suggested? They’re a great comfort. Someone to love you when no one else will.”

Regina’s chin just barely quivered; from her vantage point, Emma couldn’t tell if it was anger or sadness that caused it to do so. “Love is weakness,” she growled.

“Love is the only magic stronger than the darkest curse.” Maleficent raised her brows, a bit haughtily, her voice lifting into an almost taunting range as she added, “It broke yours, didn’t it? Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“How did you come back?”

“Someone stopped by to help me. A benefactor, you could say.”

Emma felt her flesh crawl momentarily with the realization: _Rumplestiltskin_. He was the only other person who knew she was down here. She took a step forward, asking the witch, “When?”

Maleficent pouted. “Oh it’s so hard to tell down here. I feel like I’ve been here on my own for quite some time, now. It gets lonely, you know.” Then, she blinked, as if remembering that Emma had been in the room the entire time. “And who are you, dear?”

“Emma. I-I’m, uh--”

“The savior,” Maleficent finished for her on a gush, her eyes wide. “Yes yes. The baby daughter of Regina’s favorite person!” She giggled, looking positively gleeful.

Regina glared. “How do you know about her?”

“I was told,” she replied simply, throwing her a look.

Regina’s lips immediately settled into a scowl, and Emma knew she was thinking the same thing -- Rumplestiltskin had been by to ‘help’ Maleficent and fill her in on what she had missed.

Maleficent turned back to Emma then, her blue eyes glittering in the darkness of the cavern. “Tell me, dear -- how did you do it? How did you break the darkest curse ever known? Was it love?”

Emma dipped her head, throwing Regina another sidelong glimpse through her lashes and noting that the former queen seemed about ready to burst. Either that, or smoke was about to start pouring out of her ears. Then, a bit hesitantly, she nodded to Maleficent.

A joyful little squeal burst from her. “I knew it. Don’t you see, Regina?”

Regina scoffed, appearing to just barely hold on to her already-threadbare cordial attitude. “Please. What do you know about love?”

Maleficent quirked an eyebrow, accepting the challenge. “I know that it’s the only cure for what ails you, my dear. And I know that you will never let it find you again.” Sighing, she tilted her head once more. “Not before _he_ gets to you, that is.”

Emma stepped up, sensing Regina dangling at the precipice and not wanting her to resort to irrational responses. Particularly ones that could inspire the other witch to resume her alternate, more dangerous, form. She gripped Regina’s arm. “I’ve got the sword, let’s go.”

But Regina didn’t budge, eyes still narrowed at Maleficent. “So ‘he’ is Rumplestiltskin. He’s told you that he’s planning to get revenge on me.” She lowered her head, looking at her through her lashes. “And you’re going to help him.”

“Now why would I do that?” Her smile spread slowly and wide, but there was no kindness or happiness anywhere in her tone. “You’re my only friend.”

Emma, sensing an impending confrontation, gave the women no more time to antagonize one another. She seized Regina’s arm again, “Let’s _go_!” and tugged her back toward the elevator, with Maleficent’s high, musically taunting giggle following them as they went.

Emma, still dragging Regina by the arm, flung her gently onto the elevator and climbed on after her, dragging the grate closed behind them.

“I wasn’t finished with her,” Regina seethed, teeth clenched.

“I know,” Emma huffed, slightly breathless from dragging the queen along with her in her rush. “Maybe you two can do lunch another day,” she quipped, ignoring the folded-arm facetious glare she got in return. “I wasn’t in the mood to wait for the escalation.”

“It wasn’t going to escalate,” she insisted. “We were being perfectly civil.”

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise, hands on her hips. “ _That_ was civil? Looked like a cat-and-mouse game to me.”

Regina rolled her eyes, craning her neck and throwing her voice upward. “Charming! _Up!_ Now!”

The elevator jerked and began creaking and shifting its way upward, the journey up much more slow than the trip down. It afforded them plenty of time alone together, though they spent part of it throwing terse glances at each other.

“You’re not worried?” she asked, leaning against one side of the elevator.

Regina furrowed her brows, arms still folded across her chest as she leaned against the other side. “About what?”

“That she’s, y’know...” She shrugged. “Working with Rumplestiltskin?”

“No. I have no doubt she’s working with him.” Leaning over slightly, she intoned slowly, “ _I trapped her in the form of a dragon_. She’d be ridiculous not to seek vengeance.”

She thought back on all the side comments, the self-deprecation, and she couldn’t help but ask: “How can you be so cavalier about this? There’s clearly a big-ass storm coming. How are you so calm?”

Regina sighed, turning so her back rested against the wall of the elevator. “Because.” She dipped her head, shifting her weight from one foot to the other before looking up again. “I’ve suspected, since the curse broke, that there would be a backlash of sizeable proportions. And I’ve known all along that it would be spearheaded by that lunatic.”

“But why are you so ready to give up?”

“Because there was no other way. I knew, going into this, that the curse was my last chance. When that chance ran out, that would be it for me. That curse was my curtain call, and now...” She tilted her head, not quite meeting her gaze as she finished on an exhale, “Now, it’s time for me to leave the stage.”

Emma swallowed hard, pushing herself off the wall and taking a few steps forward. “What about Henry?”

“I’ll spend my last breath protecting him,” she vowed, a solemn look on her face as she met Emma’s eyes. “Beyond that... I know he’ll be in good hands.”

The definitive tone of Regina’s voice tugged at something within her, and Emma’s mouth ran off without her brain’s consent as she whispered sadly, “What about me?”

Regina lifted her eyes, brown meeting blue as a thousand unanswered questions and twice as many unvoiced thoughts were suddenly thrust into the air between them. She opened her mouth to reply when the elevator screeched to a halt. Emma felt the floor tilting beneath her as it suddenly pitched to one side and she was airborne. Her grunt of surprise mingled with Regina’s cry of pain as they slammed together against the wall.

Emma had been able to stop herself with her hands on the wall of the car, on either side of Regina’s head, but it didn’t stop her forehead from hitting the wall. Nor did it stop the back of Regina’s head hitting the very same wall.

The elevator groaned, as if it had been hurt in all the commotion as well, and the women remained braced together trying to catch their breath. “Are you okay?” Emma whispered, watching as her breath rippled through Regina’s hair.

Regina nodded, replying in a strained voice, “I think so.”

Emma pulled back, her eyes searching the face of her counterpart as her heart continued to thud. She watched as Regina winced, and her gaze followed the motion of Regina’s hands as they raised to her rib cage.

“What is it?”

“My ribs. They uh... I think they’re just bruised.”

“Are you sure?” Emma’s eyes bounced frantically between Regina’s, her hands reaching up to help her.

Before they reached their destination, Regina’s hands gently twined with hers and pushed them away. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Everybody okay down there?” The prince poked his head into the elevator shaft, calling down to them.

Emma craned her neck to look up at him. “We’re fine! What happened to the elevator?”

“I don’t know!” The sound of metal clanging echoed, as did his soft grunt as he attempted to pull the lever. “I think it’s stuck!”

A bit of the ‘old’ Regina returned as she rolled her eyes in annoyance and yelled up to him sarcastically, “The car is turned diagonally! Of _course_ it’s stuck!” Then, she shot Emma a look, still tentatively pressing on her rib cage as she quipped, “Clearly your mother didn’t fall in love with him for his brains.”

Emma glared facetiously. Then, she yelled up to her father, “Don’t do anything! We’ll climb up!”

“Climb?!” Regina’s eyes widened in disbelief, her right hand pressing tight just under her ribs. She nodded toward her injury. “You really expect me to scale an elevator shaft like this?”

James’ voice interrupted them, a frantic desperation in his tone. “It looks like one of the cables is severed! You have to get out of there, _now_!”

Emma cursed under her breath and reached for Regina. “Come on. There’s no time.”

Regina shook her head, still holding her injured side and wincing. “Just go, I’ll be fine.”

She gaped at her. “Do you know how high up we are?! You won’t be _fine_ , you’ll be _dead_!”

“I said just go!” Regina shouted, tears filling her eyes. “If you continue to act like a stubborn ass, Henry will be motherless. Now _go_.”

“No.” Emma stood her ground, feeling the metal floor shuddering beneath her feet and knowing there wasn’t much time. “I’m not leaving you.”

Regina shook her head desperately, a pained whisper sliding out. “Emma...”

She ignored Regina’s plea and grabbed the sword, which had clattered to the floor during the fall, looking up to James. “I’m gonna throw the sword up! Try to grab it!” And she gave it a hard toss before he could answer.

Moments later, he yelled down, “Got it!” and Emma let out her breath.

She turned to Regina. “C’mere.”

Regina’s grumble skirted past the edges of her hearing and she chose to ignore it, grabbing the queen’s free hand and tugging her close. “I’m gonna lift you. Try to push yourself up on top of the car, okay?”

“It’s tilted sideways. Be reasonable.”

The car pitched a bit further as if in answer and Emma gasped, she and Regina bracing themselves against one another again. She looked around frantically for some sort of an out. Then she spotted it. “There,” she murmured, nodding toward the far wall of the elevator shaft.

“What?”

She looked over at her. “First things first.” Her hand began to glow bright blue and she advanced toward Regina. “Let me see your ribs.”

“No, there’s no time!” She pushed her hand away.

“Oh for God sakes.” Gently, Emma pushed her against the wall and grabbed the hem of her shirt.

Alarm lit Regina’s eyes. “What are you doing?!” and Emma thought for a moment she saw a spark of... arousal?... hiding in the browns.

She said nothing, just held Regina’s gaze as she slid her hand under her shirt, skipping upward over the soft skin of her abdomen before she felt it, and her stomach lurched. Regina’s rib was broken. As she gently cupped it, she heard the tiniest yelp escape Regina’s lips and she raised her eyes, spotting the tear at the corner.

Without thought, she leaned in and dusted a comforting kiss to the corner of her eye, catching the tear. “It’ll be okay, I’ve got you.”

As she kept her hand in place, she felt the transfer of warmth. She felt Regina’s rib returning to normal, their eyes remaining locked. “Why didn’t you just leave me?” Regina whispered, their faces just centimeters away.

“Because. I know you’re not ready to go yet.” She swallowed, pulling her hand away and watching the glow disappear as she added, “And... maybe I’m not ready either.”

She watched as Regina absorbed that comment, swallowing slowly and blinking back her tears. Before she could open her mouth, once again they were interrupted by another groan from the elevator car, this one a sickening rumble.

Emma was jerked back to reality, berating herself for getting caught in a moment at such an inopportune time as she grabbed Regina’s hand. “Come on. There’s a cable on the side of the shaft. It’s not connected to the car. If we open the door, we should be able to reach it.”

Regina nodded, a silent agreement struck to push away whatever had just happened between them in favor of surviving the disaster about to befall them. Together, they wrenched open the grate, hanging on to each other as they stepped up to the edge of the car.

“We won’t reach from here,” Regina told her, looking over at her. “You’ll have to hoist me out there.”

“What?”

“I can do this.” She nodded with confidence. “You lift me out there a little bit. Once I’ve got a grip on the cable, I’ll pull you up with me.”

“No, that’s too dangerous. Maybe there’s another--”

“You’re gonna have to trust me on this,” she broke in, giving Emma a meaningful look.

Emma searched her eyes, knowing they had no other choice, and no more time for other options. “Okay.”

She wound her arms around Regina’s waist, grunting slightly as she lifted her up and out. As she did so, Regina leaned forward, reaching for the cable, and was able to get both hands on it. “Let go,” she grunted, and Emma released her.

Once she had braced herself, Regina reached back. “Give me your hand.”

Emma glanced down, making sure her heels were still inside the car as she leaned out, straining to extend her arm further. “I can’t reach.”

“Jump. I’ll catch you.”

Emma met eyes with Regina... searched them back and forth, remembering her plea for trust. She rocked back and forth as gently as she could, trying to gain momentum. The car rocked with her, and she looked up again to see the alarmed look on Regina’s face.

“Emma! The cable is unwinding. Jump! _Now!_ ”

And Emma sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, preparing to leap. Just as she did, she felt the entire world fall out from under her and she fell with it, Regina’s scream echoing in her ears.

 

**TBC**


	17. Left Dangling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There they were once again; left dangling between common sense and emotion. And whatever this was building between them, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

 

  
*****

She’d heard many times that in the moments before death, a person’s life flashes before their eyes. And she’d never put much stock in it until that moment. The drop of her stomach alerted her of her imminent fall and the flashes began: elementary school, her various foster families, the day she learned she was pregnant, and the day she gave birth to her son.

Flashes of the day he found her and brought her to Maine as well as her first encounter with Regina ( _“You’re Henry’s birth mother?”_ ) floated across her mind’s eye and she closed her eyes, preparing to plummet to her death.

And then her palm tingled; she looked down to see the elevator car continuing to fall, while she seemed to be stationary. Her arm was raised over her head and she watched her feet dangle, as if from somewhere outside of herself momentarily, before she threw a glance upward.

Long bolts of electricity, blue and purple, crackled in the several feet between her hand and Regina’s. Regina’s teeth were grit together tightly as she strained, reaching down toward her. “Keep reaching for me!” she yelled down to her.

Emma stretched her fingertips as far as they would go, the blue bolt brightening in its intensity. She felt no electrical shocks, no pain. Just a light tickle across her palm as she and Regina tried to sustain a connection.

She felt herself moving; felt herself being pulled slowly upward. She kept reaching, kept straining to push out her fingertips a little further. Regina kept one hand and both legs wrapped around the cable, bending back as she reached her free hand down further.

“Emma, keep reaching! I can’t keep this up much longer!”

“I’m trying!” she grunted, still rising slowly.

The bolts of purple and blue between their palms grew shorter and shorter. Emma closed her eyes and reached with all her might, eyes popping open when she felt her fingertips touch Regina’s. Instinctively, they clasped hands, fingers laced tightly together.

And, once they were palm-to-palm, a bright white crack of lightning exploded between their hands and Emma was airborne, calling Regina’s name as she flew upward.

Then, everything stopped. Emma opened her eyes and found them mere centimeters from a pair of worried browns. Slowly coming back to herself, she took in her surroundings.

She had an arm around Regina’s waist, clinging for dear life, while the other hand clutched the cable between their bodies. Regina had one arm over her head, gripping the cable tightly, and the other arm wound around Emma’s waist, bracing her securely.

They stared wide-eyed at each other, panting from the exertion. “I’ve got you,” Regina breathed, and Emma could have burst into tears of relief.

But she was still frozen, half in fear of falling again, eyes still wide as she exhaled, “Thanks.”

“I’m pulling you up!” James yelled down to them, his big-as-saucer eyes evidence enough that he’d seen the entire rescue.

Emma and Regina continued to stare at one another from just centimeters away, each set of eyes traveling numerous times over the other’s face.

Her thoughts were oddly, eerily vacant. She just held Regina’s gaze, trying to get her bearings. She had been so close... _so_ close to the end. It was an unusual feeling. And one she couldn’t just bounce back from. She needed to feel grounded. So she closed her eyes and tried to get herself to calm down. But her heart kept racing.

She heard Regina’s soft exhale and then felt her warmth -- her forehead leaned on hers and she felt all the adrenaline melt away. She let out her breath as her heart slowed to normal. Suspended in mid-air, no earth beneath her feet, Emma had found her footing.

She opened her eyes, pulling back from the pseudo embrace as she met the queen’s eyes again. The silence between them was pregnant with so many unanswered questions. The most prevalent was why Regina acted so quickly to save her.

Searching her eyes, Regina answered the question without being asked. “I knew you weren’t ready to go yet.”

Emma swallowed hard, nodding and closing her eyes.

The queen’s voice reached her again from inches away, her confession whisper soft. “And I wasn’t ready to let you.”

She opened her eyes once more, drawing in a breath. There they were once again; left dangling between common sense and emotion. And whatever this was building between them, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Not even a full twenty-four hours had passed since they kissed, and already the feelings were irrepressible.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one struggling with it, either. As she and Regina stared at each other, Regina’s eyes kept making the same path down to her lips and then back again. And when she started to lean in, Emma didn’t have the willpower to stop her.

_“Ouch!”_

The sharp bolt protruding from the side of the elevator shaft, however, did. She jerked back, trying not to let go of Regina though her instant reflex was to cover the gash on her thigh.

“Are you okay?”

She snapped her eyes shut tightly, wincing against the pain. “I’m fine,” she got out, able to feel the blood seeping into the fabric of her jeans.

“You’re not, you’re bleeding.”

Huffing, Emma tossed her hair and met her eyes. “Well, not much we can do about it from here.”

Before long, James had hoisted them high enough that they were able to climb out of the elevator shaft on their own. Once they had, they both collapsed on the floor with relief, catching their breath.

“Emma, you’re hurt.” The prince knelt beside her, tentatively reaching toward her. “We need a tourniquet.”

“No, we don’t.” Regina pushed herself up, her hand glowing purple. “I’ve got it.”

Gently, she covered the deep gash on her leg, grimacing apologetically when Emma cried out and swore from the pain. Within seconds, though, the pain had diminished. She looked down to find just a slash in the denim. Her skin looked as though nothing had happened.

“There,” Regina murmured when she was finished, the purple glow fading from her. She looked over her shoulder at her, smiling just slightly. “Better?”

Emma nodded, pushing herself up on her elbows before she sat up. “Much. Thanks.”

Her father glanced between the two of them, eyes still round with shock. “What happened?”

Regina raised her brows, exhaling a sigh as she pressed her palms into her thighs, pushing herself to her feet. “Quite obvious, isn’t it?” She glanced up at the prince, reaching down for Emma. “The little weasel sabotaged the elevator.”

“Rumplestiltskin?”

Emma grabbed the proffered hand, giving it a quick squeeze once she was on her feet before letting go. She looked at her father, watching him watch the interaction.

“Of course,” Regina replied, folding her arms and beginning to pace back and forth. “He had to have known that we would go back for that sword. So he wanted us down there... but didn’t want to leave us a way out.”

James furrowed his brows. “Well, surely he knows that you have magical ability.”

“Yes. But he knows that mine is nowhere near his in terms of strength and ease.” She tossed her hair out of her eyes, looking at Emma. “But what he _doesn’t_ know...”

The prince’s brows raised with the implication and he finished, “Is that the savior herself can use magic.”

“Exactly. And he must never know.”

James nodded his agreement. “He will not hear it from me.”

She quirked an eyebrow, taking a few slow, catlike steps toward the prince. “Can the same be said of your _wife_?” Pursing her lips, Regina tilted her head and added, “We both know that secret-keeping isn’t one of her strong suits.”

Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Regina...”

Her father held up a hand to her, nodding subtly to let her know it was okay. Then, he let his hand fall to his side as he turned to Regina, taking a couple steps of his own toward her. “Despite your complex history with Snow, I have complete confidence in her ability to withhold this information from Rumplestiltskin. Whether you believe that or not is your decision and yours alone, Regina. I’m not about to waste time making promises, nor will I let Snow waste any time proving her worth.”

Emma took a breath, watching the two royals stare each other down; not quite aggressively, but not cordially either. It was almost like a power struggle, she realized. The overthrown queen matching wits with the man who would be king.

James leaned in just slightly, dropping his voice to a low register as he added, “Sooner or later, Regina, you _will_ need to let go of your past. You’ve clung to it for far too long. You need to learn to trust again -- to believe in Snow.” Leaning back, he sighed, picking his sword up off the ground. “And perhaps then you can allow yourself to find happiness. Maybe not the kind that magic can offer temporarily, but real, true happiness. Not to mention love.”

With one last meaningful flick of his brows, James hefted his sword in his hand and turned on his heel, heading for the library’s main doors.

Emma stayed behind momentarily, watching Regina’s reaction. Her nostrils were flared just slightly as she exhaled, watching the prince’s retreat. Then, after a few blinks she was back to normal. The same repression Emma had seen a dozen times before. She idly considered asking Regina if she was okay. Then, upon receiving a quick glance from the former queen, Emma thought better of it, and simply followed her out.

**

Regina resumed the form of a raven for their trip home. And by now, it was late enough that the citizens of Storybrooke had all likely gone to bed. Or at least taken to indoor activity.

Once inside the foyer of the estate, Regina was herself once more. They found Snow White in the kitchen sipping at a cup of, of all things, apple cider.

Emma raised her brows at the sight as the three of them made their way into the kitchen. “Woulda figured you’d have an aversion to apples. Or at least a phobia.”

Snow White shook her head. “I used to.” Looking up, she seemed to focus on Regina as she commented, “But someone once told me the only way to overcome fear is to face it.”

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Regina, who seemed to be absorbing the comment with something akin to surprise in her expression. Shrugging it off, she turned back to her mother. “Henry asleep?”

“About twenty minutes ago.”

Regina nodded slowly, still seemingly absorbing Snow’s comment as she murmured absently, “I’ll be in my study.”

They watched her go, and Emma turned back to her parents with a sheepish expression, lips pressed tightly together. “She, uh... she probably meant to say ‘thank you’ for watching Henry tonight.”

Snow chuckled mirthlessly. “No, she didn’t. I’m sure she doesn’t want me anywhere near him.”

“This truce will not be without tension, Snow,” James told her, his arm around her shoulders. “It will be a large adjustment for both you and Regina. But just know that it will be worth it. That it’s in everyone’s best interests.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I know.” Smiling up at him, she cooed, “Thanks, Charming.”

They bid their daughter goodnight and left together, promising to return the next evening so they could pay a visit to ‘Mr. Gold.’ Then, Emma made her way to the study.

Regina was sitting on the sofa, her legs stretched out in front of her and her back against the arm. She held a small tumbler of scotch in one hand, though she wasn’t drinking. Instead, she was swirling the glass and watching the liquid.

Emma lingered in the doorway, wondering if she should leave her alone. “You okay?” she couldn’t help but ask.

All she got was a nod in return; Regina wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

“You... wanna talk?”

This time she received a negative shake of the head as Regina raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.

She sighed as inaudibly as she could. “Alright! Well, uh... I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Scaling an elevator shaft really saps my energy.” She chuckled a bit, but still received no response. She nodded once. “So... goodnight.”

She headed upstairs, brows furrowed as she wondered what exactly was running through Regina’s head. On the top step she hesitated, looking first at Henry’s door, followed by that of the master bedroom. It was a momentary game show -- door number one, or door number two?

Finally throwing a glance over her shoulder, Emma decided that Regina would throw her out if she didn’t want her there... and then chose door number two.

**

It was sometime past midnight when Emma awoke with a start, feeling as though she’d just had a nightmare while completely unable to recall a single detail. She glanced over at the other side of the bed, finding the covers still undisturbed. Regina hadn’t even been upstairs.

Frowning in half-confusion, half-concern, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, replacing the strap on her nightgown that had begun to slip down her shoulder. Then, she padded down the stairs.

The door to the study was still left partially-ajar from when she’d said goodnight to Regina, and a sliver of light bathed the dark foyer. Pressing her fingertips lightly to the door, Emma peeked inside. “Regina?”

She laid asleep on the couch, her chin tucked against her shoulder with one arm dangling over the edge of the sofa, the other thrown across her stomach. Her glass of scotch sat on the rug just inches below her fingertips.

Emma watched her for a moment, envying the length of her dark, thick lashes and the way her lips pouted in sleep. Leave it to Regina to still look flawless even doing something as potentially-unflattering as sleeping.

Slowly, she crept toward her, kneeling down at the side of the couch. She picked up the glass of scotch, spying the unmistakable shade of lipstick on the rim as she wondered how much Regina had drank. But just as she moved to take the glass away, she accidentally bumped Regina’s fingers and the former queen bolted upright, gasping loudly as if resurfacing from underwater.

Emma jumped, nearly spilling the scotch all over the rug as she swore in surprise. Their hands found each other and grabbed on as each woman tried to regain her bearings from being startled.

“Emma?”

“Sorry to scare you,” she replied, dropping Regina’s hand. She brought the glass of scotch over to the small bar near the doors. “I, uh... I just came to find you.”

Regina breathed heavily, raking her hands through her hair as she sat up more fully. “Why?”

“Well, you never came upstairs.”

“I know. I was busy.”

Emma made a face. “Doing what, getting drunk?”

Regina sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not, nor did I intend to be, drunk. I just... had some thinking to do.”

She took a seat on the other end of the couch without waiting for an invitation. “About what?”

“Everything.”

Emma just sat patiently, brows raised as she awaited the elaboration.

“My mother started using magic when I was a teenager. I hated it. It seemed so silly -- quick fixes for things that were supposed to be mended with time and care. She used it as a weapon; a form of punishment for me. She wanted me to be regal... noble. She gave me a horse so I could learn to ride. But when I didn’t ride properly, she’d tie me up with the reins and let me dangle in the air until I promised to do better.”

Emma frowned, reaching her fingers out just slightly. Without looking, Regina clasped them and held tight.

“My father could only do so much to stop her from hurting me. And sometimes, she would tie _him_ up just to get a better crack at me. She was such a cold woman... and I don’t know that she ever loved my father. To her, love was weakness.” Regina shook her head, staring at her lap. “Over and over again, she would tell me that. She told me never to be stupid enough to fall in love. To feel love for anything, really, because in the end it would only cause pain and suffering. True power endures.”

“She wanted you to be powerful.”

Regina nodded slowly. “She did. She wanted to give me every opportunity for greatness. And then one day, she got it in her head that she wanted me to be queen.” Her brows flicked upward.

Emma pursed her lips in understanding. “And then came Snow White.”

“And the runaway horse, yes.” She sighed, shaking her head and looking to her lap again. “I never cared about power before I lost Daniel. I didn’t aspire to be something incredible, I just...” She lifted her head, a small crease indenting the skin between her brows. “I just wanted to love somebody. And I wanted someone to love me. I could have had that with Daniel.”

“Love is not weakness,” Emma told her. “If I’ve learned anything over the past however-many-months getting to know Henry, it’s that love is strength. It’s powerful. More powerful than whatever magic can offer.”

“I wish I could allow myself to believe that, but--”

“So believe it.”

“It’s not that simple. It’s...” She made a face. “Confusing.”

“What’s confusing about it?”

Regina met her eyes, replying quietly, “You.”

“Me? I’m confusing you? How?”

“You’re too, too...” Her hands made small circles in the air as she searched for the right word, finally landing on, “ _nice_ to me. No matter how much we butt heads, no matter how terrible I am, you will not turn a cold shoulder to me. You easily could have left me to burn in that fire several months ago. Not to mention, you could’ve just left me tied to that chair in the library. But you didn’t do either.”

Emma smiled slightly, tilting her head as she bent her knees, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Because that’s what good people do.”

“Right.”

A thought struck her, then, and she furrowed her brows. “Was that why you saved me back there? In the elevator shaft?”

Regina shook her head, and Emma’s stomach somersaulted with the idea that it could be something... else. She remembered Regina’s words to her as they dangled together: _“I knew you weren’t ready to go yet. And I wasn’t ready to let you.”_

“What happened in that elevator was pure instinct. When you began to fall, Emma...”

When she trailed off, Emma lifted her head, meeting her eyes. There was a look of confusion on her face, with some wonder mixed in.

“I thought my heart was going to stop.”

Emma’s skipped a beat of its own at the confession.

“So I reached for you, and it just... happened.”

Emma nodded, that portion of her memory already fuzzy. It had all happened so fast, after all. It seemed like she had just closed her eyes and then suddenly they were connecting, helping each other.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Regina murmured.

That drew her attention. “Do what?”

“Pretend that nothing is happening here.” She rose up on her knees on the couch, sitting back on her heels. “ _Something_ is.”

Emma swallowed hard. “I know. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

Regina pressed her lips together, eyes cut to the side in contemplation. “I think I might.”

“Yeah?” She crooked a brow. “What?”

She watched it play out as if in slow motion. Regina smiled, softly, still sitting on her heels on the other end of the couch. Then, she began to lean, slowly. Emma felt herself leaning forward, felt all of her focus go to Regina’s lips. She felt her breath and she shuddered. Then, there was a kiss.

And then another, a bit less tentative than the first. Then, Regina pulled back and they searched each other’s eyes. That strange bit of adrenaline was coursing through her again, and she swept her hand under Regina’s hair and pulled her in, leaning back on the couch.

She wasn’t certain how long they remained there, kissing and touching, but before long Regina pulled back. Her lips were swollen from their harried kisses, and Emma found herself wanting more. The queen smiled a slow-curling smile, and her teeth bit down softly on her lower lip as she hovered above her.

When she leaned in for more, Regina slowly backed away, rising from the couch. She took the glass of scotch with her and Emma watched as she ascended the staircase, sipping from the glass.

So there she was, left dangling, unsure of the next move. She was awash with sensation; some amalgam of desire and sexual confusion. It became clear what to do.

She just had no idea what the hell the fallout would be this time.

 

**TBC**


	18. Abdication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina gave a sideways smirk, and even in the dark her smile was brilliant. She rolled onto her stomach, the sheet falling to her hips, and Emma took a moment to appreciate the fine curve of her bare back as she bunched the pillow beneath herself.

 

  
*****

Emma awoke with a start, clutching her heart as it thudded wildly. She had broken out in a light sweat, and the chilly night time breeze coming in through the window made her feel clammy. She swallowed, hard, trying to get her breathing to return to normal.

Another one... though this time, the images were vivid enough to stick.

Wings flapping, though they did not belong to a bird. Endless amounts of fire and ash, and yet, somehow, inexplicably... ice. So much ice. She saw a fist pounding on the ice, trying to break free. A lake? Someone trapped under a lake.

There were flashes of Regina, crying; and then Henry, shouting for her. Finally a high-pitched cackle and she was jerked awake.

And now here she sat, heart still slamming in her chest and skin clammy from the breeze. Her breathing was shallow and erratic; she was trying to find a rhythm but one wasn’t making itself known.

Beside her, the sheets rustled. The mattress dipped and shifted. And then soft kisses trailed across her bare shoulder blade. “What’s the matter?”

Emma let out her breath, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into reality, to find her footing. She shook her head, eyes still closed as she exhaled, “Just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep, it’s late.”

She felt Regina’s smirk pressed to her shoulder. “Early,” she corrected.

“Whatever,” she chuckled quietly. She patted the hand that wound around her, fingers splaying against her stomach. She laced her fingers with Regina and allowed the rest of her body to calm, despite parts of it still tingling from earlier.

What had happened between the two of them, she couldn’t describe. It was a first for her, certainly. Of course she’d kissed other women before. Emma Swan was no stranger to ‘Truth or Dare,’ and she had always viewed the ‘Truth’ option as a cop-out. But this... this was something completely different.

This was a culmination of months-worth of tension and cat-fights; the one-upmanship and figurative chess match. It was an explosion of every glare, every facetious smile or fluttering of the lashes, every leg-cross and lip-purse and indulgent smirk. It was as if this ball of energy, of star matter, had been building between them for months; growing warmer and warmer and spinning and shifting and rotating, until it burst wide open and created a supernova.

Lips and tongues had battled. The sheets rumpled in their war, every nerve ending a casualty. Fingers tangled in curls and in layers of thickness, eyelashes kissing soft cheeks and noses bumping as they continued to spar. Nails left behind pink, raised battle wounds and lips grew chapped and swollen from the occasional bite.

It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It was sex on a higher level; it was a consummation of their months-long foreplay.

“Lie down,” Regina murmured and Emma followed her instruction, settling back against the pillows and looking up at her.

The former queen gave her a smile, one that Emma couldn’t help but return, as she stretched out on her side and leaned in for a kiss.

All traces of scotch were gone from Regina’s lips. Left behind was just, simply... her. “Tell me your dream,” she whispered when she pulled away, hands templing under her cheek as she nestled against the adjacent pillow.

Emma sighed, drawing the sheet up to her collarbone and folding her arms over her stomach. “I wish I could, in a way that would make sense. But...” She frowned. “It doesn’t even make sense to me.”

“Try.”

And try she did. She told Regina about the fire and ice, about the cackle and the sword and her brief appearance as well as Henry’s. By the time she was finished, she had no more clarity over the events than she did to begin with. And Regina, meanwhile, was frowning at her in confusion.

“You’re right, that makes no sense.”

Emma couldn’t help the chuckle, clapping a hand over her eyes and saying tiredly, “I tried to warn you.”

Regina gave a sideways smirk, and even in the dark her smile was brilliant. She rolled onto her stomach, the sheet falling to her hips, and Emma took a moment to appreciate the fine curve of her bare back as she bunched the pillow beneath herself. She caught her staring but merely smiled wider, dipping her head and tucking a slice of hair behind her ear.

“Are you worried about the dream?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, frowning up at the ceiling. “I mean... I feel like I should be, but I don’t really have a lot to go on. And I mean,” she shrugged, lifting a hand briefly before she let it fall to the mattress. “It’s not like just because I’ve got magical powers I can somehow see the future or anything. That’d be a little weird.”

“True, but magic _is_ unpredictable here, Emma. And you’re the product of magic yourself. Even _I_ don’t know what you could be capable of, and your abilities came directly from me.”

She shrugged facially at that; she had a point. “So, I could be like a... soothsayer or something?”

Regina quirked a brow, turning on her side once more, elbow on the pillow. “Well... you tell me.”

Emma watched as Regina ran one finger down her arm. “What do you see happening in the next hour or so?”

She smirked, flirting back, “Terrible, terrible things,” while dragging Regina on top of her.

**

The sun was blaring through the open window the next time she woke up, and she found herself in an empty bedroom. A steaming mug of hazelnut coffee awaited her, and she sipped at it as she dressed.

Silver-on-ceramic percussion reached her ears when she left the master bedroom, followed by Regina’s swift scolding of Henry’s breakfast manners. She heard Henry’s soft apology followed by lighter tapping. After a not-so-subtle throat-clearing from Regina, then, all noise stopped. Emma couldn’t help the smirk as she made her way toward the dining room with her cup of coffee.

“Morning,” she called.

Henry greeted her brightly, completely missing the coy look Regina shot her over her own mug of coffee. “Good morning,” she greeted, her lips upturned ever-so-slightly as she set the mug on the table.

Emma took a seat beside her son, grabbing for the basket of bagels in the center of the dark-polished table and ripping into one. She had just bit into a rather large chunk when Regina cleared her throat once more, drawing her attention.

“What?” she asked around the food, a smirk toying with her lips. She knew exactly what had Regina perturbed.

Predictably, one perfectly-manicured brow arched sharply, her elbow propped on the table with her coffee mug near her lips. “Were you raised in a barn, Miss Swan?”

Henry giggled and Emma rolled her eyes, sighing, “I’ll get a plate.” Subtly, without her son seeing, she flicked the queen’s hair flirtatiously as she passed.

“Can I be done?” Henry asked, legs swinging under the table. “I wanna go pick apples.”

Regina furrowed her brows at that. “Pick apples?”

He nodded. “They’re all over the lawn. I saw a bunch of them fly off and hit the side of the house last night.”

Emma spluttered on the sip of coffee she’d been taking. “What?”

He looked between the two of them in surprise. “You mean you didn’t hear it? Man, you guys must have been sleeping real hard!”

The two women flushed in unison, eyes meeting and then averting quickly. “Yes, we must have been very tired,” Regina covered.

They followed Henry out to the back yard, where dozens of apples were strewn about, several of them smashed on the patio. The siding on the estate was dented in various places, deeply.

“There’s no way throwing an apple could do that much damage.” Emma shook her head, bending to pick one up.

Regina scooped up one of the apples still intact, surmising, “Unless it wasn’t thrown.” Straightening up, she spun on her heel to face her son. “You said you _saw_ this happen last night?”

He nodded.

“Did you see anybody in the yard?”

“No! They just flew off. Like magic.”

Emma met eyes with her again, just a sideways glance without a turn of the head, before looking back at her son. “Why didn’t you come and get us?”

Henry shrugged. “I figured you guys saw it. I thought you were going to come to get me, so I went to lay down to wait for you. I must’ve fallen asleep again before anything else happened.”

Regina lifted her eyes and Emma read the look in them clearly. She looked down at the deck beneath her feet. “We should clean this up.”

“No! Let’s make cider!” Henry reached down for some of the unblemished apples.

_“No!”_

Regina’s exclamation had been loud, forceful... laced with a bit of fear. Her hand was outstretched toward the boy to stop him but not quite touching. “Don’t touch them, they could be dangerous.”

Emma quickly dropped the one she’d been holding, wiping her hand on her jeans.

Regina threw her a look. “ _We_ can touch them, I just don’t want _him_ touching them.”

“Oh.”

Henry made a face, squinty and contemplative, up at Regina. “Maybe I should have some magic too.”

She patted his head, lips set in a stern expression. “Maybe you should keep dreaming.” She nudged him toward the back door. “Go inside and gather up your dirty laundry, please. I’ll be doing the wash later.”

“How come I don’t get to help with this magic stuff?” he pouted, heading inside. His voice began to trail off as he rounded the corner, “ _I_ figured all this stuff out _way_ before you guys did...”

Regina rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her son while Emma smirked. Then, she waved a hand, causing all the fallen apples to vanish in an instant.

Emma sighed. “Well, he’s apparently getting a little bit more adventurous with the messages he sends.”

“He’s getting ready to do something,” she murmured, pacing back and forth with her hands on her hips, “I can feel it. He’s not going to sit idly by much longer.”

“So what do we do?”

Regina stopped her pacing and met Emma’s eyes. “We need to send him a message of our own.”

  
*****

The prince and princess came by as promised in the early afternoon to go over a game-plan for their visit to the pawn shop. But Regina had a last-minute game change she wanted to speak to Snow White about. Emma had asked her a few times throughout the day what she was plotting, but she remained quiet and introspective.

Once they had arrived, Henry was sent up to his room against his chagrin, the only explanation being that the adults needed to talk.

Regina seized her former stepdaughter’s elbow, and Emma watched panic light Snow’s eyes. “If I could speak with you privately for a moment,” Regina intoned, softly but definitively.

Snow looked back at her husband. “James?”

“One-on-one if you don’t mind.” Off the looks she was receiving, Regina sighed and let go of Snow’s arm. “It’s of the utmost importance. Please.”

James nodded his assent and Regina led Snow out the back door, leaving Emma alone with her father. “Do you have any idea what that’s about?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the two of them, visible just outside the kitchen window.

Emma shook her head. “I really, really don’t. Wish I did, though.”

They stood together at the sink, looking out the window onto the patio. Snow and Regina were standing close together, Regina doing most of the talking. Snow White went through several facial expressions, the first of which was defiance. Whatever Regina was suggesting, she clearly was going to instinctively reject it.

Then, a furrowed-brow expression took over as she listened intently to whatever was being said. Emma watched her take in a deep breath and sigh it out, her shoulders moving with her as she did so. Regina remained talking the entire time, occasionally throwing a furtive glance around them -- probably on the lookout for prying eyes and/or ears.

“She won’t hurt her,” Emma heard herself saying.

Her father looked over at her. “You have faith in her. You trust her implicitly now, don’t you?”

Emma swallowed as inaudibly as she could, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” she replied after a moment, still not taking her eyes off the activity beyond the window.

She still felt him studying her. Another moment passed before he asked, “What changed?”

In a split-second, her mind’s eye glanced over the last twenty-four hours: the look in Regina’s eyes as she lifted her shirt to heal her rib; the sound of her scream when she’d been about to fall. The stare that passed between them when they finally had a grip on each other, dangling in mid-air, before their foreheads met. And then the taste of her lips, her skin, her very being.

“Everything,” she finally answered.

Emma felt her father throw one last furtive glance in her direction before turning to look outside again.

Now Regina stepped closer to Snow, telling her to do something. Snow nodded and when Regina reached out with both hands, she clasped them. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat, and the back of her mind threw up a dim warning that she still could try something.

A purple smoke engulfed them and James called to his wife through the closed window. “Snow!”

Emma grabbed his arm, digging her nails in. “She’s fine,” she assured him, despite not being one-hundred percent certain, herself.

The smoke swirled around the pair, high into the air before it dissipated. When Emma got another look at them she was almost startled. Snow White’s hair was several inches longer. It tumbled far past her shoulders in rich brown curls, and she wore a long white gown with a cloak around her shoulders of the palest blue. Her former self?

Regina’s attire was much on the other end of the spectrum. A long, flowing black gown that hugged her every curve until it flared just past the knee. Her hair was spun up and the top of her gown boasted a high collar at the back. She held an ornate silver box in her hands, passing it to Snow White.

Snow took it from her and hugged it to her body, turning it so she could reach the clasp that held it closed. She opened the box and her eyes widened; she snapped it closed and looked up at Regina. What she asked her was indecipherable, but Regina nodded in response to whatever it was, and then she bent into a genuflect, lowering her head.

Emma watched her mother as she stared at Regina with wide, surprised eyes, some other emotion visible but not yet readable. She blinked several times, looking down at the silver box and again at Regina before the purple smoke swirled around them once more. When it was gone, they were clothed normally, Regina still on one knee while Snow still clutched the ornate box.

Then, Regina stood. She and Snow White exchanged a long glance, before they nodded slowly at one another, some understanding having been reached. Then, they turned to head back inside.

Emma and James spun away from the window, leaving the kitchen to meet them in the back hallway. Emma threw up her hands in a shrug. “What the hell was that?”

Regina merely gave her a slight smile, turning to Snow White. “You know what to do?”

Snow nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.”

James shook his head. “What is that?”

Snow smiled at him. “It’s our secret weapon.” Then, she headed for the door. “Let’s go see if Mr. Gold wants to make a deal.”

All Emma could do was stare at Regina questioningly over her shoulder as she followed her parents out the door.

**

The pawn shop was, predictably, empty when they arrived. The bell over the door tinkled, signaling their entrance. Yet instead of finding the suit-clad ‘Mr. Gold’ behind the counter ogling some new acquisition, instead there was a young, blue-eyed brunette awaiting them.

“Welcome to Mr. Gold’s pawn shop,” she greeted them with a smile, coming out from behind the counter. “Is there something I can help you find?”

Emma stood at the head of their trio, in no mood to play nice. “Where is he?”

The girl’s smile faltered, but the courtesies remained. “M-Mister Gold, himself? Well I apologize, but he’s quite busy at the moment. You see, he’s--”

“Where. _Is he_ ,” she ground out through clenched teeth, knowing this was a line of defense for him.

“Do my ears deceive me, or is that the lovely Miss Swan coming out of hiding?” His voice rang out from the back of the store, and soon he had appeared, duplicitous smile already in place. His hands were braced on the door frame and he pushed himself out, no longer walking with a limp. “Ah, well it’s all three of the Charmings! Right here in my humble little shop!”

He stepped out in front of the young girl, hand to his stomach as he bowed deeply. “To what do I owe this great honor?”

Emma glared at him. “Cut the crap, Gold. You know why we’re here.”

The smile faded as he straightened up. He turned over his shoulder briefly and said to his counterpart in a matter-of-fact way, “That will be all, Belle.”

Emma watched as the girl threw him a dirty look and headed reluctantly into the back of the shop, leaving them alone.

“What brings you here, Charmings?”

James stepped forward. “We want to make a deal.”

Gold sniffed a laugh, heading behind the counter, and Emma and James followed him. “Well I hate to break it to you dearie, but I’m fresh out of interest in new deals.”

“Oh, I think you’ll make a deal with me.”

The three of them turned to see Snow White, still with a smug air about her. She leaned casually against one of the shelves, holding the silver box to her chest.

Gold tilted his head. “Is that so?”

“Oh yes.” She sauntered up to the counter, as if some of Regina’s attitude had rubbed off on her. “I don’t think it would be wise of you to decline in this case.”

“No? And, uh...” Leaning in, he wrinkled his nose and tipped his chin just slightly, his voice dropping to its trademark whisper as he finished, “Why’s that?”

Emma watched as her mother’s satisfied smile never faltered; she set the silver box on the counter with an unceremonious clunk, unhooking the clasp and opening it for him to see inside.

In the box, nestled in red velvet lining, was a sterling crown. A crown that seemed to render the pawnbroker momentarily speechless.

So Snow White stole the opportunity; she leaned in and answered him in that same whisper... “Because _I’m_ your queen now.”

 

**TBC**


	19. Afterburned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You crackle with energy, Princess Emma. And we both know Mummy and Daddy haven’t a magic bone in their bodies.”

 

  
*****

The pawnbroker leaned back only slightly from examining the piece, allowing his eyes to drift to each one of them without moving his head. “Come again?”

Snow retained her small but smug smirk. “You heard me,” she intoned lowly. “I am now your queen.”

“Is that so.” Gold tilted his head, traveling to the next set of glass counters as their eyes followed him. “So you mean to tell me that this is _the_ platinum crown bestowed upon your dear stepmother when she married your father?”

“The very same.”

Emma and James just watched the interplay, each understanding that Regina had perhaps given Snow explicit instructions about how this supposed ‘deal’ should go down.

Gold returned to them with a magnifying glass in-hand, passing it over the crown as he leaned over it once more. The four of them were in a silent limbo as he took his time scrutinizing the piece. Finally, Snow White seemed to grow weary.

“Satisfied?”

At that, the pawnbroker straightened with his lips set in a firm line. “You mean to tell me that Regina actually abdicated the throne... to _you_?”

“Please,” Snow sniffed, lip curling in derision. “She always said I’d only have this crown over her dead body. And now I do.”

He smirked. “Which means...?”

“I had to take my kingdom back, for the sake of my family, and Regina was the only thing standing in my way.” Nonchalantly, she shrugged. “So I killed her.”

“Is this true?” He glanced to Emma.

She stared him down, her best poker face already firmly set. “You bet it is. I helped her do it.”

Gold pressed his palms to the glass countertop, leaning forward as he addressed Emma quietly, but still loud enough for her parents to hear. “That wasn’t a conflict of interest for you, dearie?”

Emma searched his eyes, wondering what game he was playing now, when something glimmered in her periphery. She glimpsed downward and noticed his hands, his wrists -- they were dotted with gold splotches. As if he’d been painting his skin in gold. She lifted her eyes once again, asking him, “What do you mean?”

“Well, the last time I popped by for a visit, you and our fallen ruler looked quite... close.”

Emma’s heart bumped into her throat. She didn’t dare look at either of her parents for fear that she’d falter and give something away. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on Mr. Gold, narrowing them slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course.” He glanced away, setting aside the magnifying glass. “I apologize. Perhaps I misheard all that ‘caring about each other’ chatter that had been going on at the time.”

Emma bristled but tried not to let it show. “I could care less about Regina. I just needed to gain her trust.”

He looked up at her again, head tilted and a small smirk on his lips. “Well it was a rather convincing act, I must say.”

Emma opened her mouth, but her father jumped in before she had a chance, barking at Gold, “Enough! We didn’t come here to be harassed.”

“Then why did you stop by, your royal highnesses?”

Snow White lifted her chin regally. “We wish to broker a new deal with you, in exchange for this priceless crown.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you leave Storybrooke. You cancel whatever grand plans for revenge you had been making, and slip away quietly.”

James stepped forward with his own addition. “And, you will not make any more of your 'deals' with any of our subjects. Ever again.”

“In exchange,” Snow jumped in again, “you will hold in your possession a crown so valuable that you will be left wanting for nothing as long as you live.”

“And the, uh...” He lifted his eyes, “power? Behind the crown? I’ll have that as well?”

Emma furrowed her brows. “What?”

“Well, if you want to unload a dusty old crown, that’s one thing. But handing over the meaning _behind_ the crown... that’s something else entirely.”

Emma took a step forward, eyes narrowed at Gold. “You really expect them to hand control of an entire kingdom to you?”

“I had assumed that was the irresistible portion of the deal.”

Snow White glared. “No. It’s bad enough my father’s kingdom fell into Regina’s hands when she murdered him. There is no way I’m handing control over to someone just as unstable.”

“Even more so,” Emma corrected, sniffing a short laugh and raising her brows without taking her eyes off Gold.

He shot her a look, taking his gold-scaled hands off the counter before he turned to Snow White. “Then I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

“I don’t think you understand how valuable this crown is,” Snow pressed, and Emma could sense her mother was beginning to panic.

“Oh I understand quite well, Your Majesty,” he told her, polishing his magnifying glass with a soft rag. He glanced up. “But you see, what _you_ fail to understand is the fact that I’m not interested in riches. What I’m interested in... is power.” He then waved her away, as if she were a pesky little gnat. “Now if you’ll please... I have some bookkeeping to catch up on. Feel free to stop by again when you have something I might be interested in.” And he sent her off with a smile.

Snow White drew in a frustrated breath and slammed the ornate case closed, hugging it to her chest as she flounced off with James at her heels. Emma glared at the pawnbroker before starting to follow after her parents, thumbs in her back pockets.

But his voice stopped her. “Oh Princess Emma, before you leave... mind if I have a word?”

Emma stopped in the doorway, rolling her eyes. “It better be a good word,” she quipped.

He ignored the quip and instead waved her closer. “Come.”

Sighing irritatedly, she folded her red-leather-clad arms across her chest and stepped up to the counter. “What.”

He leaned on the counter once more. “Tell me... did you really think I’d fall for that little one-act play?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know a Regina caper when I see it. And _that_...” he pointed to the door her parents had just left through, “had her fingerprints all over it.” His eyes moved over her slowly, and he added with a hint of a smirk, “As do you.”

“Excuse me?” She hoped the surprise hadn’t registered on her face.

Gold smiled to himself, dipping his head. “You crackle with energy, Princess Emma. And we both know Mummy and Daddy haven’t a magic bone in their bodies.”

“So?”

“Not to mention, you’ve been somewhat of a recluse since you broke that curse.”

She rolled her eyes, despite her heart thudding in her throat. She folded her arms. “What the hell’s your point?”

“There’s only one other person you could’ve imbibed that power from.” He leaned in, each word softer and softer until it was just a taunting hiss. “And that’s our dear... fallen... Queen.”

Emma just glared, forcing herself not to break her stone-faced resolve. He wasn’t going to get a damn word out of her.

Gold smiled and leaned back, as if he suspected as much. “I’m sure at the time she made it sound like a perfectly rational idea. Perhaps had one of those old, leather-bound magic books out to back her up, since you’re ever the skeptic.”

She swallowed as lightly and inaudibly as she could, her stomach beginning to churn.

“Bet she didn’t tell you about the, how to put it, ehm...” He feigned thought, a golden, scaly finger pressed against his chin. “The afterburn, of sorts.” He smiled, his voice a bit higher, a bit more taunting, as his eyes flashed gold. “The side effects.”

Emma took a soft breath and shook her head, attempting to keep her voice level. “I’m getting a little sick of this. Are you done yet?”

He ignored the comment, his smile growing more and more gleeful by the minute. “So I take it she _hasn’t_ told you. Didn’t bother to warn you that once you’ve taken her magic blood, that you would become suddenly stricken with feelings of desire. Physical attraction. You would begin to _want_ her.”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach, and she knew for certain her expression was completely transparent as she thought, _No..._

Out loud, she told him shakily, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? You’ve known her a mere nine months, dearie. But I...” He pressed a hand to his chest. “I have been observing her for years.”

“Enough of this. I’m outta here.” She whirled on her heel and started for the door.

His voice stopped her. “I’ve been told she’s quite the seductress when she wants something.”

She briefly flashed back to their night together as she lingered in the doorway. She turned around slowly, nauseated by what she was hearing. “What?”

“She’s skilled in the art. You see, there’s always a pattern. Draw them in... get those defenses down and gain their trust... seduce... and then go in for the kill.”

Emma just stared.

“You think you can save her? Turn her around? Then she’s got you fooled. You’re just another in a series of pawns for our dear monarch. You’ll be discarded once you’ve served your purpose, just like all the others.”

Emma didn’t stay to hear another word. She merely yanked the door open, making sure it slammed into his glass shelving, before yanking it closed behind her.

Outside, her parents were waiting for her, eyes wide in confusion and concern. “What was that about?” Snow asked.

Emma stayed leaning against the door briefly, her hand still on the knob behind her. Her eyes moved frantically across the air in front of her, back and forth, as she assessed what had just been laid in her lap.

It was impossible. But at the same time... it made perfect sense. Regina was using her. For what, she had no idea. His words ran endlessly through her head: _You’ll be discarded once you’ve served your purpose..._

Her purpose -- what purpose? Was she just there to act as a bodyguard for Henry while Regina geared up for her magic battle? And then once it was over, Regina was going to take Henry and then get rid of her? It was ridiculous. And yet...

“Emma!”

“Huh?” She snapped out of her thoughts, meeting eyes with her mother.

Snow White’s forehead creased in concern. “Are you alright? What happened in there? What did he say to you?”

She shook her head and with it, shook off her mother’s concern. “Nothing. Nothing important. Let’s go.”

She felt their confused stares following her to the car, but she ignored it, not knowing how to address what happened in the shop. So instead, she remained silent for the drive home, until they pulled up in front of the estate.

Once they had parked, she looked up at them suddenly. “Would you guys mind taking Henry overnight again?”

Snow and James exchanged a glance, an unspoken conversation passing between them, before they turned to their daughter. “Of course not,” Snow told her, “But is everything alright with you? You’ve been incredibly quiet since we left the pawn shop.”

Emma nodded, feigning her best brave face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I just... have a lot on my mind. Regina and I need some time to...” She shrugged, struggling for a lie. “Figure out what our next move should be.”

“Of course we’ll take Henry,” James assured her softly.

“Great. Great, thanks.” She climbed out of the car before they could ask her any further questions. “I’ll go get him,” she called over her shoulder, striding toward the estate.

Henry was the first to greet her, sitting on the stairs surrounded by a pile of comic books. “There you are! How’s Operation Python progressing?”

“Just fine,” she told him curtly, marching purposefully up the stairs and into his room. All the while, Rumplestiltskin’s words went round and round in her head, taunting her and making her more furious by the second.

Henry stood in the doorway and watched her as she threw a pair of his pajamas and some clothes into his backpack, along with his storybook. “What are you doing?”

“Packing a bag for you.”

“Why?”

Zipping up the bag forcefully, she slung it over her shoulder and started down the stairs again. “Because you’re spending the night with David and Mary Margaret.”

“You mean Prince Charming and Snow White.”

“Yes.” She was practically seething she was so angry.

Henry followed after her, continually looking up at her with a mix of worry and confusion -- almost the same expressions her parents had worn just minutes earlier. “Are you okay? You’re not blinking.”

She cocked her head ever so slightly in a half-nod, keeping her eyes straight ahead as she told him, “I’m just fine.”

“O...kay...”

He followed her out to the truck and she tossed his backpack inside, helping him climb in. When he was seated and pulling the belt around himself, he gave her another look. “You’re sure everything’s okay?”

Emma nodded, and forced herself to give him a smile despite her insides burning. “Just fine, kid. Don’t worry. Have fun with your grandparents. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

And the trio in the truck continued to look at Emma curiously as they drove away, so she feigned another happy smile to reassure them and waved goodbye as they rounded the corner out of sight.

She heard the door opening behind her. “Hey, is Henry staying overnight with them again?”

Emma’s smile disappeared as the fury crept back up. She dipped her head, trying to keep her breathing even. Just as she had when she’d heard Regina’s voice in Henry’s hospital room -- after she’d figured out who she was.

Shortly, she responded, “Yes,” and turned to head inside, brushing past Regina.

“Oh!” Regina followed her in, the coy smile evident in her voice even though Emma couldn’t see her. “And uh...” Once inside, she closed the door, meeting her in the middle of the foyer. “Any special reason you wanted us to be alone tonight?”

“Yeah.” Emma slowly turned to face her, leveling her with a hard stare as she ground out, “There was.”

Before Regina could so much as open her mouth, Emma held up a hand and sent her flying, her back slamming against the front door. But before she could fall to the ground, before either of their hearts could so much as get through half a beat, Emma had surged toward her, propelled by her fury.

She clamped a hand around Regina’s throat, eyes hard. “You knew what would happen if I took your blood, didn’t you!”

The skin between her brows wrinkled. “What are you talking about?” And she choked slightly as Emma’s grip tightened.

“You knew. You knew the whole time that this would happen. That I’d be your willing little... _pawn_!” she spat, her face mere millimeters from Regina’s. “And you played me. Every step of the way. The spells, the book, the ritual, the kisses, the rescue, the sex. It was all an act, wasn’t it?”

Regina’s face contorted, pain and sadness fighting for dominance in her features as she breathed out, “What are you talking about?”

“I should’ve known there was no hope for you. You’re rotten to the core. I just can’t believe I fell for it.”

She let her go and Regina dropped to the floor, coughing from the choke-hold and glaring up at Emma through her lashes. “How dare you,” she grumbled, palms pressing into the floor as she pushed herself up. Her legs shook as she stood. “How dare you walk in here and accuse me of something so, so--”

“So _true_!” she yelled. “Just admit it.”

A crack of purple lightning exploded from Regina’s hands and Emma was tossed into the air, her back hitting the table and vase in the middle of the foyer and crashing straight through it. She laid on shards of wood and glass and she pushed herself up, feeling the trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.

“I’ll admit to nothing,” Regina growled, “because I’ve done nothing wrong. Rumplestiltskin had a run at you and you took the bait, you gullible little _child_. And now you’re too far gone to even see what’s real and what isn’t.”

“Right, because there’s no way he could possibly have a valid point here! You screw with _everyone_ , Regina, _everyone_. Everyone plays their own little part in your game and I’m just another piece on the board.”

“You know what, you’re right, Emma,” she patronized her. “You’re exactly right. I conjured up the idea of you and I having some weird magical connection, _just_ so I could give you magic, _just_ so I could maybe have a crack at getting into your pants. You’re right, that makes perfect sense. Just like how I saved your pathetic excuse for a life and kept you from falling down an elevator shaft for my own personal gain.”

Regina planted her hands on her hips, standing over her. “There’s no possible way I could have seen any sort of value in keeping you safe from harm, of making sure you stuck around to take care of _our son_ once this whole thing is said and done. And it’s _completely_ ridiculous that, in the middle of this unholy alliance, I began to feel something genuine for you. Something that became so powerful that it made me regret all of the horrendous mistakes I’ve made over the years. It’s not as if you’ve ever made any mistakes in _your_ life.”

“Yeah, well...” Emma got to her feet, glass crunching under her boots as she tilted her head, sighing, “At least my mistakes don’t have a body count.”

That did it. Regina’s jaw clenched and her spine snapped into a straight line. She lifted her nose and said with the last bit of integrity she had, “Get out.”

“What?”

“I said _get... out_.”

Emma huffed, pressing her palms to her forehead, thumbs just under her ears. She closed her eyes. “Regina... look." Her hands dropped to her sides, shoulders slumped. "This is getting way out of hand. I just... I talked to him and he said some things that...” She sighed. “Made way too much sense.”

She met Regina’s fastly hardening brown eyes, watching her swallow hard. Tears filled her eyes but her voice didn’t quaver. “So, rather than chalk it up to his insanity and staunch fervor to gain all the power he possibly can while sparing no cost... instead, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“I--”

“Get out.”

Her heart thudded in her throat, her stomach falling far past her feet now and straight through the floor. She knew she’d committed an unspeakable wrongdoing... she’d gone way too far. Regina’s walls had just started to come down and now with a few choice words, Emma had succeeded in building them higher.

“I said _get out_ ,” Regina ground out again, pointing toward the door.

Emma nodded, resigned to her self-imposed fate, and headed for the door. Regina slammed it behind her before she had barely passed the threshold, and she threw a glance over her shoulder at the closed door.

She had taken only a few steps before the gravity of what had just happened caught up with her, and she sat down hard on the concrete stoop. She propped her elbows on her knees and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes.

What the hell had she done?

 

**TBC**


	20. The House of Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had to have known Regina wouldn’t make this apology process easy on her. Not that she deserved it. No, this was going to take some effort. So rather than let the former queen stew, Emma pushed herself up and marched inside, readying herself for another confrontation.

 

*****

Hours had passed since Regina had thrown her out, and still she remained on the stoop, unmoving. The sound of the birds had interrupted her thoughts in the afternoon; the sun had gotten in her eyes in the evening, and now she sat chilled under the stars.

She couldn’t believe what she had done. It was so rotten. There was still that last niggling part of her, telling her that it was reasonable that she would jump to such a conclusion after all she’d seen Regina do... but that was quickly buried under feelings of deep remorse and pain.

In the span of nine months, she and Regina had gone from barely-polite pleasantries, to all-out war, to unspoken kinship, to a reluctant alliance, tentative friendship, and now, finally... whatever the hell _this_ was. Lovers? Girlfriends? Partners? She had no idea.

For so long, she had kept Regina locked away in the smallest compartment within her, only opening it to add new information about the way she reacted to certain comments and in certain situations; gathering intelligence on the enemy, in a way. After a few months, the compartment began to expand. New information came in the form of the physical: the way she tilted her head, the spark of fire that would light her eyes when she was furious, the various smiles to grace her features along with their hidden meanings, and the way she pressed her lips together or pursed them in thought.

And now, it was as if the compartment had spilled open and leaked into her system somehow. Regina was everywhere, invisible marks all over her. The way she carried herself and the way her hair moved and how her bare skin felt were suddenly all vital pieces of information, invoking in Emma reactions emotional and physical.

She envied the length of Regina’s lashes and admired the grace in her every step. She enjoyed the unique taste of her lips and shivered when she said her name. She was amused by the smirks that would start to break through when Henry was testing her, and the scar above her upper lip fascinated her.

Her blood boiled when Regina was upset, and she felt completely at peace when their foreheads were pressed together.

_“...I began to feel something genuine for you. Something that became so powerful that it made me regret all of the horrendous mistakes I’ve made over the years.”_

And Regina was right - Emma was no saint, either. She had made countless mistakes in her life; some of which landed her in juvy and, a few years later, jail.

But unlike Regina, Emma didn’t regret her mistakes. Without those mistakes, she wouldn’t be half the person she was now. Without those mistakes she wouldn’t have had Henry, and subsequently, she never would have been brought to this town.

Without those mistakes, she never would have met Regina in the first place.

And it was that thought that got her moving again. She pushed herself up from the stoop, muscles protesting after the few hours of being stationary, and she headed for the front door. She tried the handle, only to find it locked. But it didn’t deter her.

Instead, she took the long route, walking around the estate to get to the backyard. She knew she would be there, and there she was; sitting on the swing as she’d found her so many times before, sipping at a glass of wine.

Only this time it wasn’t wine. No, it was a concoction much stronger. The acrid scent reached her from several feet away and made her nostrils sting. She had opted for the quiet approach, but when the smell hit, she couldn’t help but comment, “What the hell are you drinking? Jet fuel?”

Regina curled the wrist that held the glass against her body, throwing Emma a dirty look. Instead of responding, she looked out at the apple tree and took another gulp of the pungent liquid.

“What do you care, anyway?” she finally responded, voice hoarse from drinking.

Emma sighed. “Look, Regina... what I said earlier was...” She shrugged, unable to come up with anything more poignant than, “Stupid. Unbelievably stupid.”

Regina looked over at her, glass tucked against her chest once more. She remained silent, just blinking at her.

Emma took a few steps forward. “I had a lot of time to think about what happened. Why I even believed him in the first place.”

Regina swallowed hard, and looked down into her glass, rasping, “Do tell.”

As she got closer, Emma got a better look at her. A blanket was draped over her legs, which were tucked up beside her on the swing. Her lips were drawn and the corners were pointed downward. One look at her eyes and she realized the hoarseness in her voice wasn’t from drinking.

Regina had been crying.

Against her better judgment, Emma went to her, half-bracing herself for being blasted across the lawn by a purple bolt. But instead Regina remained unmoving, rocking herself gently on the swing.

She sat down beside her and the swing was momentarily thrown off its rhythm. Ignoring the look of warning Regina sent her way, Emma scooted close.

“It was easy for me to believe Gold’s line of crap. It all added up and it made perfect sense.”

Regina pursed her lips. “You’re not doing yourself any favors going down this road again.”

She held up her hands in supplication. “Just hear me out.” Softer, she urged, “Please.”

The quiet plea threw her off for a moment, she could tell -- her features softened ever-so-slightly before she schooled them again, looking straight ahead once more and snipping, “Make it quick. I’m tired and I’d like to get some sleep.”

Emma sighed -- it was the best she was going to get. And at this point, she’d take anything. “Fine, I’ll cut to the chase.” Boldly, she reached out and turned Regina’s face toward her again with a thumb and finger on her chin. Once she had made eye contact, she let it out. “It was easier to believe that you were using me, because the idea that this might be genuine scares the hell out of me.”

Regina’s lips parted and she drew in a soft, quick breath. Her eyes searched Emma’s, expression softening. “What?”

“You scare the hell out of me, Regina. This whole thing does.” She scooted a little closer, grabbing for her hand and letting out an inward sigh of relief when it wasn’t instantly yanked away. “When I first came here, I hated you. Thought you were the most cold-hearted, unfeeling bitch. But the longer I stayed, the more I got to see these tiny little glimpses of actual, human emotion. When you quit being ‘Mayor Mills’ and you were just you.”

Regina swallowed hard again and glanced down at her lap, at their entwined fingers. “When Henry was trapped in the mine.”

She nodded. “Yes. And then the fire. And in the hospital. All I had to go on were these tiny little glimpses of the real you, Regina. And what scares me is the fact that even back then, even before we struck up this little ‘alliance’... I had wanted to see more. I _wanted_ to see the real you.”

Regina looked up at her, searching her eyes with tears in her own. Emma pressed on, not wanting to lose momentum. “And it’s only gotten more intense since I’ve been staying here, in this house. I wanted to see the sides of you that nobody else got to see. The woman that raised a child on her own -- who tucked him in at night and sang to him out here on this very swing when he couldn’t sleep. The woman who used to be happy - who used to enjoy her life, before it became a power struggle. I want to see _everything_ , Regina,” her voice broke briefly, “and that scares the crap out of me. Because I’ve never wanted to see everything in anyone else.”

“Really?”

Her voice came in a shocked whisper, some form of sadness and pleasant surprise mingling on her face.

Emma allowed herself to smile. “Yeah, really.”

And though the tears remained, Regina’s full lips settled into a scowl, and she threw the blanket off her legs suddenly, pushing herself up. “Then I guess it’s too bad you don’t want to see past the mistakes and the body count.” She flounced into the house through the back door.

Emma sighed, dipping her head for a second before calling after her, “Regina...”

She had to have known Regina wouldn’t make this apology process easy on her. Not that she deserved it. No, this was going to take some effort. So rather than let the former queen stew, Emma pushed herself up and marched inside, readying herself for another confrontation.

She met up with Regina in the foyer, catching her arm before she could lock herself in her study. “So walking away is the way to resolve this? Come on, Regina.”

“What is there to resolve, Emma? You say you want to see ‘everything’ and yet you can’t see past your own initial, narrow perceptions of me. _That_ is why it was so easy for you to believe every line he fed you.”

“No. It’s not. I promise you, it’s not. God, Regina!” She shook her head, pushing her hands roughly through her hair. “Doesn’t this scare you? We’re supposed to hate each other, or-or resent one another forever, and yet... we don’t! We care about each other. Way too much. That doesn’t scare you?”

“It’s terrifying,” she admitted, fists still clenched at her side. “The last thing I want is to feel something for you, but I do. It’s ludicrous, but I’m dealing with it. But you lashed out at me, without having _any_ of the real information - without even _asking_ me. Are you expecting me to just brush that off when you say something nice?”

“No. No, of course not. But there’s too much at stake for us to just sweep all this under the rug and let it dissolve. And I think there’s too much here,” she gestured between the two of them, “for us to stay mad at each other forever. We need to work together, we’re a team.” Tilting her head, she said plaintively, “We have to protect Henry from whatever’s coming our way.”

Regina paused to give that some thought. She dipped her head, and Emma watched the varying shades of deep brown obscure her eyes for a moment. Until that graceful hand came up and tucked the slice behind her ear. “We have been under quite a bit of stress lately,” she admitted.

“Yeah. We have.” She took a step forward. “Stress that could make us say really idiotic things that _we don’t mean_.”

Quirking a brow, she asked, “Things that could also make us feel things for each other that we wouldn’t under normal circumstances?”

Then it was Emma’s turn to pause. She hadn’t even considered that. “I don’t know. Maybe...”

“Did you ever think that... maybe the only reason we’re feeling all these things is because of the situation? Because we’re in close quarters?” Regina inclined her head just slightly and said quite matter-of-factly, “Because let’s face it - if we weren’t stuck with each other day in and day out, we probably wouldn’t care as much.”

“Maybe not.” The ‘as much’ stuck with her. “But I would still care about you. I would still want to believe that there was good in you and that you would help me protect Henry. And who knows?” She threw up her hands in a shrug. “Maybe Rumplestiltskin’s right about the blood thing. Maybe that’s a reason too. Or maybe he cast a spell over us when we weren’t paying attention, Regina, I don’t care!”

The former queen looked slightly taken aback by the sudden exclamation, but Emma took another step into her.

“We can excuse what’s happening between us and explain it away and try to figure out why the hell it happened in the first place but to me, none of it matters. I feel it and I don’t think it’s gonna go away anytime soon. So we can either stand here and let this house of cards fall down, or we can make amends and try to move past me and my big mouth.” She finally stopped to take a breath, telling her as she let it out, “The ball’s in your court, Regina. What do you wanna do?”

Regina darted her eyes away, searching the remains of the destroyed table as if an answer was somewhere in the splintered wood and shards of glass. She looked up and Emma tried to discern the look in her eyes, tried to guess what she was thinking.

But she was afforded no time for guessing as Regina crashed against her, hands in her hair as they slammed into the wall. Emma gasped under the force of her kiss, trying to regain her bearings, but it only deepened. Lips bruised and teeth nipped. Tongues were reacquainted and breath mingled.

It was clear what Regina wanted to do about their situation.

So Emma pushed back, pushing off from the wall and tangling her hands in Regina’s hair as Regina’s hands gripped her waist. They stumbled over the broken table, glass crunching beneath her boots and Regina’s pumps. Regina cried out into her mouth as they were stopped again, this time by the banister at the bottom of the staircase.

“You alright?” she breathed into her mouth, never breaking the kiss.

Regina nodded against her and slid her hands upward, murmuring, “Fine. No stopping,” before deepening the kiss all over again and shoving at her red leather jacket.

They struggled trying to get it off, Emma flapping her arms behind her while Regina shoved at the stubborn article of clothing, all the while never breaking the heated kiss. Once the jacket had been shucked, Emma pushed her against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, untucking her pressed silk shirt from her skirt. The kiss broke finally, only so she could allow her lips to explore the soft skin of Regina’s neck and under her ear. Softly, she breathed against her skin, taking her in, and she couldn’t help but smile when she felt Regina shudder.

“Upstairs,” the mayor murmured and Emma was all too happy to comply.

They stumbled their way up the stairs and down the hall, bumping into walls on either side of the upstairs hallway as they exchanged more fervent kisses. Once inside the master bedroom, Emma kicked the door shut with one foot and started tugging at Regina’s clothes, trying not to rip them.

Her voice suddenly stopped her. “Slow.”

Emma met her eyes.

Reading the look in them, Regina smiled and leaned in for a slow, languid kiss. “I wanna make this last.”

Nodding, Emma returned her kiss slowly, passionately. Her hands returned to their original task of ridding Regina of her clothing, though this time her approach was much more methodical. As their lips captured each other over and over again, Emma let her fingers gently undo each button of Regina’s crimson blouse, until it spread open. Slowly, she nudged the item off her shoulders, watching as it slipped away and fluttered to the floor like a fallen rose petal.

The moonlight coming through the blinds painted the room in horizontal stripes, though it did nothing to mar the beauty in front of her. Clad in only a slate gray pencil skirt and a crimson, satin bra, Regina was flawless. Her skin was pale with just a hint of an olive complexion. Her arms were dotted sparsely with the occasional beauty mark, and it became Emma’s quest to kiss each one.

By the time she was on her knees, dusting light kisses to Regina’s navel, they were both practically vibrating with anticipation. She slid her hands around her waist, to the clasp on her skirt, only to have Regina stop her. Emma looked up to see the moonlight reflecting off her pearly smile.

“Allow me.”

With a flick of her fingers, Regina had the clasp unhooked, and she slid the skirt down her legs. Emma rose to her feet to help her step out of it, her pumps the next items to go.

Emma raised her brows in appreciation. “Wow.”

When Regina looked up at her, she breathed an airy chuckle. “Last night happened pretty fast, so I didn’t really take the time to do much looking, but... wow.”

Regina smiled demurely, leaning in for a brief kiss. Instead of responding, when she pulled away she told her, “Your turn.”

Her tank top was lifted over her head, and Emma tossed it aside as Regina unbuttoned her jeans. The zipper was dragged down almost agonizingly slowly, and Emma could have screamed in frustration. Regina seemed to sense her restlessness, and kneeled to finish the task. She looked up at her as she pushed the denim over her hips, teasing her legs with soft touches on the way down.

Emma was practically squirming, and swore when she realized the boots were in the way of her pants. Hurriedly, she bent to unzip them, and Regina pulled them off before Emma kicked her jeans away. Then, they crashed together again, lips bruising and battling for control. Emma cupped Regina’s face, inhaling sharply through her nose as Regina’s hands wandered down to her stomach and beyond, teasing her through her underwear. She moaned against her lips and broke the kiss, eyelids heavy with desire.

Wordlessly, they climbed into bed together, slithering to the middle and falling into another kiss. Emma laid back, pulling Regina with her and moaning when she shifted to lie on top of her. Her hands grasped the curve of Regina’s waist, squeezing ever so slightly before sliding downward, cupping her muscular bottom and relishing the moan she was rewarded with.

Her head was forced back against the pillow when Regina’s hands tangled in her long, blonde curls, her lips pressing deep kisses to her neck and throat. Soft moans and sighs escaped Emma’s lips as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations, her hands sliding to Regina’s back, unhooking the satin that confined her.

Regina was quick to rid her of the same article, and they sighed in unison when skin met skin. Then, Regina flipped them, pulling Emma over her, and she smiled against her lips. Her hand slid slowly up Regina’s forearm, which rested on the pillow, until their fingers entwined. Something about the motion was instantly familiar to Emma, like a déja-vu; it was as if she’d seen it before.

But then Regina’s hand found its way inside her underwear and all thoughts were shoved promptly out of her mind. She broke their kiss to groan, squirming against Regina’s hand. Then it slid away, and she grunted her frustration, muttering, “Tease,” with a playful smile.

Regina chuckled back and kissed her again, lacing their fingers more tightly together. Emma broke from her once more and trailed kisses down her neck and across her shoulder, sliding down to lavish attention on her breasts. Then it was Regina’s turn to squirm under the attention, Emma’s name sliding out on a sigh as she allowed her lips and tongue to tease and tantalize.

The inward slope of the mayor’s stomach was her next destination, and she allowed her tongue to dance a circle around her belly button. She lifted her eyes to Regina’s and saw the plain desire written there, as well as a glimmer of anticipation. Emma just smirked and glanced down at Regina’s waist, sweeping her hand feather-lightly over the satin that hugged her there.

“I know this is the only thing you’re wearing, but uh... it’s still too much,” she quipped.

Regina sighed, “Well, I hate to be overdressed,” and lifted her hips to allow Emma to slip her panties down her legs.

Emma was just kissing up her legs, caressing Regina’s inner thigh with her lips, when the phone began to ring. Regina groaned in frustration, throwing a glance at the clock. “Who the hell would possibly be calling now? It’s after midnight.”

Emma glimpsed at the call screen, and her heart dropped momentarily, almost pre-emptively. “The ID says ‘Blanchard.’”

They met eyes while Emma reached for the phone, pulling it to her ear. “Hello?”

“...Emma?”

Snow White’s voice sounded far off, and a bit tremulous. “Mom?” It still felt completely foreign to call her former roommate by that term.

“I think you and Regina better get over here, quick.”

“Why?” she asked, some inward part of her already knowing the answer.

“Because Henry’s gone.”

**

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Regina burst through the door to ‘Mary-Margaret’s’ loft, eyes wide with alarm.

Emma followed her in, lightly touching the sleeve of her jacket as she pleaded with her, “Try to stay calm.” It was advice that even _she_ was having a hard time following, heart racing a mile a minute at the thought of her son going missing.

She had dropped the phone when her mother had told her. She just barely remembered telling her that they were on their way before she and Regina flew into a simultaneous panic, their earlier passion taking an instant backseat as they threw their clothes on in a hurry and jumped into her car. She was positive she hadn’t obeyed any stop signs or traffic lights on the way over, but Regina hadn’t objected in the slightest.

Her parents stood together at the bottom of the stairs, James’ hands on Snow’s shoulders as she pressed a kleenex to her face, crying. “We-we were sleeping,” she stammered tearfully. “Henry was fast asleep, so we went to bed. A little while later, we heard some noise down here, so we came to check it out.”

“When we got downstairs, Henry was gone and the door was wide open,” James told them, pointing toward the front door.

Emma’s pulse quickened, and she swore she could feel her heartbeat in her throat and her ears. Still, she had to force her sheriff side into the foreground. “Were there any signs of a break-in?”

Snow shook her head, tears still slipping down her cheeks. “No, nothing. It was just open, like--”

“Like magic,” Regina muttered, marching quickly for the makeshift bed that had been set up for Henry, off to one side of the main level.

Emma followed her, hoping she had an inkling as to what had happened, because she was coming up blank. And it was hard to keep her head with her son in danger, once again. “What?” she prompted, watching Regina tear apart the bed, pulling up the sheets and the pillow. “Do you think it was Rumplestiltskin?”

Then all at once, Regina froze. Emma felt the tension whip through her as swiftly as if it had happened to her. “Regina, what?”

Regina bent slightly at the waist, scooping up an item that had been on the bed and looking down at it. “I don’t think it was Rumplestiltskin... but I know exactly who it was.”

“Who?” Snow White and her husband stepped toward them.

Emma watched Regina expectantly, looking down when she placed the item in her hand. It was a large card... like a jumbo playing card, or a tarot card.

And when she turned it over, the image of a white rabbit stared back at her.

 

**TBC**


	21. Tick Tock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They searched every floor and every room for a sign of Henry’s or Jefferson’s presence. But each time, they came up empty. Emma felt more and more helpless with every room that revealed nothing.

 

  
*****

“What the hell is this?” Emma turned the card toward Regina, brows furrowed.

Regina’s lips were pressed together in a thin line, her arms folded across her chest and foot tapping anxiously. “It’s the ‘calling card,’ of sorts, that I would leave for Jefferson when I wanted something from him. He’s a former... co-conspirator of mine, I guess you could say.”

Her stomach dropped, remembering all too well the night she’d spent in his huge, empty house. The night that ended with she and her mother sending him flying out the window, only to have him vanish without a trace. She hadn't seen him since that night.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to Regina, hand against her stomach to calm its churning. “ _Jefferson_ has our son?”

Regina flicked her eyes up to meet hers. “You’re familiar with him?”

“He’s a lunatic,” Snow White grumbled, her brow knit with worry. “He kidnapped Emma and I a couple months ago.”

James and Regina wore twin expressions of surprise and confusion. “He what?” Regina asked.

Emma shook her head, holding up a hand to forestall her, with a simple but vague, “Long story,” as she began to pace.

“Well shouldn't we start looking for Henry?” Snow went to the coat rack by the door and pulled her jacket on.

“Yes we should, Snow,” Regina replied.

Emma nodded in answer, striding for the door as she told them lowly, “And I know just where to start.”

She heard the dull clicks of Regina’s pumps following her. “As do I,” she said, catching her elbow and spinning her around, “But I will tell you right now that it’s likely he won’t be there.”

Emma stopped, searching the browns before her. “He won’t?” She was surprised by how helpless she sounded.

Regina shook her head. “No. But we can start there.”

Emma glanced to her parents then, watching them watch she and Regina before exchanging a look. James stepped forward. “We’ll go with you.”

Surprisingly, Regina offered no protests, and instead nodded her acceptance, leading the way out the door. Once they were outside, they all froze in shock at their surroundings.

The pink light of dawn had settled in across the sky. Emma blinked at it, half-wondering if she was asleep, before she glanced at the clock tower. It was still only half-past midnight.

“What the hell’s going on here?” she breathed, glancing to her counterpart who was staring at something off in the distance.

“Look,” Regina murmured, pointing, and the three of them followed her gaze.

Behind all the shops, and all the houses, mountains had sprung up -- lush hills and valleys thick with varying species of trees. This time, the sight was enough to get Emma to rub her eyes... just to make sure. “I don’t remember there being any mountains in Storybrooke.”

Snow White shook her head, jaw slack as she stared at the landscape beyond Storybrooke. “There aren't. There are mountains where _we_ come from,” she gestured to herself, James and Regina, “But... not here.”

Emma looked out at the hills and valleys again. “So what does that mean?”

Regina scanned the sky, as if searching for something. “It means he’s pushing the realms together.”

Snow’s eyes widened. “What?”

Emma was struck with a thought... something Jefferson had said to her when she had been forced to sew hats. Her eyes frantically searched the ground, running over what he said, his voice echoing in her mind.

_“They touch one another... pressing up in a long line of lands, each just as real as the last - each of them have their own rules.”_

Aloud, she surmised, “So he found a way to... break the barrier between them?”

Regina nodded, the four of them heading for Emma’s car. “Yes. They press up against each other, and there are an infinite number of places you can open a ‘door’ of sorts between two realms. But if you do, there can be disastrous consequences.”

She still felt somewhat lost. “So this means...”

Her father answered her before Regina could open her mouth. “It means Rumplestiltskin is already starting his ‘war.’”

Emma thrust the key into the ignition, turning it and barely waiting for the engine to come to life before she peeled out, adding, “And kidnapping Henry was the first step.”

Snow leaned forward from the backseat. “You think Jefferson is working with Rumplestiltskin?”

“Why not?” Regina raised her brows. “They both hate me and they’re both clinically insane. It’s a match made in heaven.”

**

The gravel crunched beneath her tires as she pulled up in front of Jefferson’s sprawling manor. The four of them climbed out, slamming the doors, and Emma took the lead as she jogged up the stone steps to the door.

“We’re not ringing the bell, are we?” Snow asked.

Regina shook her head, “Nope,” and blasted the door clear off its hinges with one violet burst of energy.

She and Emma walked inside, standing assertively on the fallen door as they looked around, shoulder-to-shoulder. In the corner, a clock in the shape of a grinning cat ticked loudly, its tail the pendulum.

Snow made a face as she and James followed them in. “Even in daylight, this place is creepy.”

They searched every floor and every room for a sign of Henry’s or Jefferson’s presence. But each time, they came up empty. Emma felt more and more helpless with every room that revealed nothing.

“So now what do we do?” Snow asked, out of breath from jogging upstairs from the basement.

Emma watched Regina for a cue, hoping she had some inkling as to what plan of attack would come next. Slowly, Regina straightened her spine, a determined look settling over her features. She began to stride quickly for the front doorway, stepping on the heavy front door as she led them all back to the car.

“We need to get to town hall. My office, specifically,” she told them, buckling herself into the passenger seat while the other three climbed in.

“Why?” Emma couldn’t help but ask, turning the key in the ignition.

As the engine roared to life, Regina merely cocked her head and twitched her brows, staring out the windshield as she answered cryptically, “You’ll see,” and they took off down the main road back into town.

**

The sky was still pink though the clock tower read 3 o’clock in the morning; mountains still dotted the far edge of the town and the citizens of Storybrooke remained oblivious; likely still sleeping peacefully.

They headed into town hall and straight up to the mayor’s office. Regina pulled a set of keys from her desk and unlocked a chest of drawers off to one side, pulling out a large leather case with a concave top.

Emma furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to ask what it was when Regina opened it and flipped the lid, pulling out a hat. Then, her eyes widened, and she murmured, “The hat.”

Regina cradled the brim in each hand, glancing over at her and quirking a brow. “Excuse me?”

Emma pointed to it, eyes still round with shock. “That’s Jefferson’s hat. You’ve had it all along.”

“I don’t understand.”

She began to explain, then gave up, knowing it would only take valuable time as she finally huffed, “Long story, nevermind.”

Regina nodded, and carried the hat with her while the four of them fell into stride together. “Follow me,” she told them, leading them down to the courtroom.

“Okay, Regina.” James stopped her from setting the hat on the checkered tile floor, his hand on the crook of her elbow. “I think it’s time for you to explain a little bit about what’s going on. Where’s Henry? What is this hat supposed to do to help us?”

Sighing exasperatedly, Regina rose to her feet, shaking off his hand. “I’m afraid we don’t have time to waste with explanations, _Charming_ ,” she told him through clenched teeth.

“Regina...” This time it was Emma to try, lightly touching her elbow. “We’re all in this together. They want to help us, so they need to know what’s going on.” Throwing up her hands in an exaggerated shrug, they slapped down against her thighs again as she added, “Hell, _I_ need to know what’s going on!”

“Alright!” she relented, setting the hat down and holding up her hands in supplication. Calmer, she repeated, “Alright.” Her hands rested on her hips; she drew in a breath, let it out, and began. “Jefferson and I have a somewhat... complicated history. I tricked him into doing something for me that landed him trapped in a life without his daughter, and he never forgave me. This hat,” she gestured the hat that sat on the banister separating the defense and prosecution tables from the rest of the courtroom, “was his. It opens a portal to any of the realms, each one with its own door.”

Snow shook her head. “How do you know which one Henry is behind?”

“Just trust me,” Regina beseeched her. “I know.” Turning to Emma, she said, “Jefferson will have taken him to the place in which I kept him trapped for years.”

Emma’s stomach turned, knowing what was coming but still needing to ask. “Which is...?”

“Wonderland.”

 

**TBC**


	22. Jumpers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina led her forward and Emma took a look at their vivid, dreamlike surroundings. Blades of grass, thick as tree trunks, loomed high over their heads. Flowers turned to greet them, some of them bowing in their presence, others snickering and making snide comments to each other.

 

  
*****

“Wonderland?” Snow White stepped forward, forehead wrinkled in curiosity. “It exists?”

Regina glanced at her, arching a brow. “You’re familiar with it?”

“Well... not me, Snow, b-but... as Mary Margaret, I read that story aloud to my class.”

She nodded, then answered her. “Yes. It exists. It’s in a separate realm, but it’s no less real.”

Emma nodded toward the hat. “And that’s how we’re supposed to get there?”

“Yes.” She set the hat on the tile and gave it a hard spin.

Together, the four of them stood over the spinning hat, watching it start to topple on its axis like a top, until it tipped on its side and rolled a few inches. Emma glanced at Regina. “Is that it?”

Regina looked wholly confused, murmuring, “No,” as she bent to give it another try.

Again, the hat spun lazily but produced nothing, eventually stopping in place. Regina picked it up and turned it over in her hand, inspecting every angle. “What the hell’s wrong with this thing?”

“Does it need a potion of some sort?” James asked.

“No. Jefferson always just... spun it. And it worked.” She shook her head, cradling the brim in her hands and looking down into the hat, as if the answer was somewhere within the silken lining. “It should work perfectly now that magic has returned.”

Emma’s stomach fell, the idea hitting her that it may take them awhile to get to Henry. “What if it only works when _he_ spins it?”

Defeatedly, Regina sighed and closed her eyes, shoulders slumping. “If that’s the case, then we’ll never see our son again. Because you can rest assured that Jefferson won’t show his face in Storybrooke anytime soon.”

**

The four of them returned to the mayoral estate with the hat in tow, the brim dangling limply from Regina’s fingertips as they went inside. Upon stepping into the foyer, Emma watched her parents’ eyes settle on the table and flower vase, still lying splintered in the center of it all. “What happened in here?”

“It’s nothing,” Emma told them, waving dismissively. As she did, the splintered table and broken glass vanished. She frowned down at her hand briefly before looking up at them.

Her mother looked as though she had further questions, but instead kept her mouth closed as she just regarded Emma in confusion. Emma turned to her counterpart. “Maybe we need to talk through this.”

Regina sighed again and closed her eyes, though this time it was in exasperation. “What we _need_ ,” she snipped, raising her eyes to Emma’s, “is to hurry up and get our son back.”

James stepped forward. “Well Regina, let’s say you _can_ get the hat to work. Are you and Emma just going to wander blindly through this other realm looking for Henry?”

Regina shot him a look, expression softening when Emma grasped her arm, turning her toward her. “He has a point, Regina. We need a plan. If this is really Rumplestiltskin taking the first ‘shot’ in this war, we can’t just go in swinging.” Shrugging, she threw her hands up. “We don’t even know where the hell Henry will be!”

“I do,” she replied quietly, staring down at the hat.

Emma furrowed her brows. “You do?”

“Yes.” Looking up with determination fixing her brow, Regina strode quickly to the small oval mirror on the wall and pressed a hand to it. She dipped her head and closed her eyes, concentrating, and within seconds, the surface of the mirror began to ripple. The image twisted and shifted, and soon it was no longer Regina’s reflection looking back at them -- it was Henry.

He was being dragged by Jefferson through a winding trail of sky-high, perfectly-groomed hedges. Every color surrounding them was almost ridiculously vivid, and guards were scattered every which way, eying Henry and Jefferson warily.

Emma lurched forward unconsciously, her hand reaching toward the mirror. “Henry!”

Regina grasped the outstretched hand and drew it down by her side. “He can’t hear you.”

“Where is he?” Snow White asked, she and James stepping up behind Emma and Regina.

Emma watched as her son struggled against Jefferson, who was binding his wrists with golden rope.

_“You’ll never get away with this! My moms are going to find me and then you’re gonna be in trouble.”_

Jefferson feigned shock, then laughed. _“You think so? Sometimes parents disappoint their kids.”_

Regina clenched her teeth. “I’ll kill him.”

 _“My mom will kill you!”_ Henry shouted after Jefferson as he ambled away slowly. _“You think her leaving you in Wonderland was bad? Just wait and see what she does to you now!”_

But Jefferson continued walking away, a smirk on his face. _“I’m shakin’ in my boots, kid.”_

Then Regina waved her hand and the images were gone. Emma practically jumped, feeling as though she’d been jolted back to reality after being inside of a dream. It took her mind a moment to focus. “Now what?”

“Now we do whatever the hell we can to get that hat working,” Regina told them, carrying the hat with purpose to the center of the foyer.

She set it on the tile, hands still cupping the brim, as she closed her eyes and seemed to center herself. Then, she gave the hat a spin. When it yielded nothing more than a few lazy revolutions, Emma knew her counterpart was close to losing it. So she knelt down beside her and clasped her arm supportively, trying to instill in her the calm that she couldn’t quite get herself to feel.

As she clasped her arm, Regina let out a breath and closed her eyes, dipping her head ever so slightly. It was then that the hat seemed to revive. It began spinning faster and faster, violet swirls of wind rising from it. Regina glanced at her hand, then up at Emma, as the two of them seemed to remember all at once the powerful, magical connection that had bound them so tightly to each other in the first place.

The wind picked up and they stumbled back, watching the purple swirls reach the ceiling. Below them, the hat began to transform into a giant chasm.

“You did it!” Snow White exclaimed, glancing in shock between the two of them.

Emma breathed harshly, looking down into the dark abyss that awaited them before she lifted her eyes to Regina and yelled over the wind, “You ready?”

Regina began to nod, then stopped herself. “Wait.” She glanced over her shoulder. “James, a word please.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Now? We have to go before this thing closes on us!”

Regina shook her head, already pulling the new king aside as she told her, “It won’t go anywhere until we jump in.”

Emma glanced helplessly at her mother, who was already watching James and Regina off in the corner. Regina spoke quickly, her expression set in determination though Emma couldn’t make out through the swirling violet wind what was being said. She watched her father nod solemnly, and then he and Regina shook hands, some sort of agreement having been struck.

Her mother met her eyes in alarm, and Emma shook her head, not knowing what was going on. Then, Regina was by her side again, telling her, “It’s time for us to jump.”

“What about us?” Snow exclaimed suddenly, gripping her husband’s arm.

Regina looked up at her, telling her through the wind, “You’re the Queen now, Snow. A war has been started. It’s time to take charge of your kingdom.”

Snow White blinked her large, round eyes, momentarily terrified, before she schooled her features and nodded.

Then, Emma jumped as Regina grasped both of her hands, gripping them tightly. “Ready?”

She froze, stomach somersaulting as she considered what battles awaited them at the end of the portal. “No,” she murmured.

“Me neither,” Regina told her, and then all at once their arms were wrapped tightly around one another and they were plummeting downward at a frightening clip. Emma closed her eyes, breath too gone to scream, and Regina pulled her in tighter as they fell, cupping the back of her head in an almost protective gesture.

They landed, hard, crying out as they fell over one another. Regina let out a pained yelp as her head slammed against the polished, dark tile under them, Emma braced over her.

“You okay?” she breathed, brushing the dark hair from Regina’s eyes and face.

She nodded, still holding onto her tightly. “I think so.”

They struggled to their feet, hands bracing one another for leverage. Once they were upright, Emma took a good look at their surroundings.

They had landed in some sort of great, round hall. Tile clicked beneath the heels of her boots as she walked around, looking at the myriad doors that surrounded them on every side. Each one was a different color and shape, some with images carved into the wood, some with brilliant gems for doorknobs.

“This way.” Regina’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she turned to find her standing in front of a large mirror.

“That’s the entrance?” She stepped up beside her, looking through the mirror, which appeared to be not as much a mirror as a window into Wonderland.

Regina nodded, telling her, “Through the looking glass.”

“Okay,” she exhaled, preparing herself. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Regina’s hand closed around her wrist, and she looked up to meet her brown eyes.

She searched them, back and forth, noting the hesitation in Regina’s expression. “What?”

“You need to know that this is not going to be an easy rescue. I’ve... used this place as a sort of punishment for certain people; I sent them here so that I could be rid of them, and they were forced to create lives for themselves in this ridiculous place. One of them in particular rose to power, and became queen. If you think Rumplestiltskin is difficult to deal with, you will be in for a world of shock when you meet her.”

Emma shook her head. “Who is she?”

Regina blinked, and wasted no time as she told her without pretense, “My mother.”

“So you sent your mother to Wonderland, and she became the Queen of Hearts.”

“Yes. And you need to be prepared to deal with her.”

“How?”

Regina drew in a breath. “I have no idea. Her power scares me. She’s capable of anything.” Glancing down, she took Emma’s hand, watching her thumb rub her knuckles. “When we go in there, I need you to follow my lead. I need you to trust me enough to do as I say, no matter what happens.” Raising her eyes again, she held her gaze. “Do you trust me?”

Emma nodded without hesitation, keeping the contact as she replied, “Yes.”

Regina paused at that, the look on her face telling Emma she clearly expected a rebuttal of some sort, or at least some faint reluctance. “You do?”

So Emma nodded once more, squeezing Regina’s hand to assure her. “Yes.”

Regina blinked a few times in succession. Her lips twitched into a touched smile before the corners of her mouth downturned sadly. Emma couldn’t figure out if she was happy with her answer or upset by it.

But before she could so much as ask, Regina’s lips were on hers, kissing her almost desperately. Emma returned the kisses with some of her own, enjoying the feel of Regina’s hands tangled in her curls before they broke apart, foreheads meeting. They breathed together for a long moment, eyes closed, before Emma asked quietly, “...Ready?”

Regina swallowed and nodded, leaning back and taking her hand again. “Ready.”

Emma looked to her counterpart for a cue as to how to enter Wonderland. So Regina led her slowly toward the looking glass, stepping through it as the glass rippled around her. Without letting go of her hand, Emma followed, closing her eyes as she stepped into the glass. She felt as though she were submerging in a pool briefly, a cool rush sweeping over her, before she stepped through to the other side.

Glancing back at the looking glass, Emma saw that it retained its appearance. Though now, it only reflected their image, no longer providing a window to the room they’d just come from.

Regina led her forward and Emma took a look at their vivid, dreamlike surroundings. Blades of grass, thick as tree trunks, loomed high over their heads. Flowers turned to greet them, some of them bowing in their presence, others snickering and making snide comments to each other.

She nearly jumped as something moved in her periphery, and she turned to see a large mushroom at least ten feet tall, upon which a gigantic caterpillar was turning to face them. He wore a red fez and puffed on a hookah, enquiring as he blew smoke rings at them, “Who... are... you?”

Regina waved the smoke away and gave the caterpillar a dirty look while Emma watched the smoke ring surround her head like a halo, dissipating directly under her nose and inciting a brief coughing fit.

“God, I hate Wonderland,” Regina muttered, and pulled her further along the path.

They followed the path down a hill, into a valley where a labyrinth of hedges awaited them. “Henry’s in there?” Emma asked, as they stood outside the entrance, signaled by the large heart at the top of the foliage arch.

Regina nodded. “He’s at the center.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “So we have to _solve_ this thing before we even get to him?”

“Of course not.” Keeping the fingers of her right hand laced with Emma’s, she extended her left and sent a purple pulse shuddering out, carving a hole in each hedge that led right to the center.

Emma looked over at her cautiously. “Won’t... the queen be mad?”

Regina just shrugged, telling her, “Everybody’s a little mad here,” before leading the way through the labyrinth.

**

The makeshift archways created by Regina’s blast ended a dozen yards shy of the center of the labyrinth, so as not to alert Henry’s captors of their presence. Regina signaled her to be quiet with a finger against her lips, and Emma nodded her understanding, allowing her counterpart to navigate the rest of the way through the maze. She heard Henry yelling at someone and she gasped, frozen in her tracks. She wanted to run toward the source of his voice, but Regina’s hand clamping down on her wrist stopped her.

They had to take their time, though each second that ticked by killed her a little more. Their son needed them, and here they were undergoing a sneak attack.

She heard a high-pitched, male giggle, followed by a string of threats made by Henry.

 _“You really think your mummies stand a chance against me, dearie?”_ Rumplestiltskin taunted him.

Emma clenched her teeth, seething softly, “I’ll murder him.”

“Please do,” Regina whispered. “But first, let’s get Henry to safety.”

“Right.”

They were just around the corner from the center now. The voices of Henry and Rumplestiltskin were so close, Emma thought she could reach her hand out and touch one of them.

She heard Rumplestiltskin’s tone change. “Well, well, well... what have we here?”

And then suddenly, she and Regina were engulfed by one of the hedges, thick vines wrapping around them and dragging them through to the other side, lifting them high in the air before dumping them, entangled, on the ground.

“Mom!” Henry exclaimed, struggling against the golden ropes that bound him to a chair beside the throne.

Emma and Regina scrambled to their feet, turning to find Rumplestiltskin lounging on the large throne beside Henry, seated sideways with his back leaning on one arm and his legs draped over the other. He grinned at them. “Henry's magical mums to the rescue?”

“Let him go,” Emma growled at him.

Rumplestiltskin ignored her, and instead turned glinting eyes to Regina. “So we meet again, Your Majesty.” He tilted his head, grinning. “But then, I suppose I shouldn’t call you that anymore, hmm? What’s this I hear about you giving your power away to the little monster that killed your beloved?”

“My _mother_ is the monster that killed Daniel. Not Snow.”

“Ooooh!” He clapped his hands in delight. “Had a change of heart, have we? That’s quite a different tune than the one you’ve been singing lo these many years.”

“Cut the theatrics, Rumple,” she told him, “I’m here to make a deal.”

“Well that’s admirable of you, dearie, but I still hold to what I said not long ago -- you no longer have anything I want.”

“You and I both know that’s not true. She made a deal with you before I was born, didn’t she? My mother.”

Emma watched the interplay, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Regina as she eyed her cautiously.

Rumplestiltskin tilted his head, shifting position to sit upright, elbows braced on each arm of the throne and hands templed together in front of him. “Go on...”

“You’ve been behind everything, ever since I was born. You’re where she got all her power, you’re the one that convinced me to trap her here. You helped her become queen and gave her the idea to hold my father hostage. But she never fulfilled her end of the bargain, did she? Not yet.”

Emma furrowed her brows in confusion. “Regina...”

“Does this soliloquy have an end, dearie? I’m afraid I’m growing rather bored.”

“Fine, then I’ll cut to the chase.” Gently, she pushed Emma slightly behind her, taking a few steps toward the throne. “You let Henry go, and in exchange I’ll make sure that you get what my mother promised you.”

“Which is what?” Emma asked, already dreading the answer.

Regina met eyes with Rumplestiltskin, spine straightened with confidence as she replied, “Me.”

 

**TBC**


	23. Heart of Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's the only way."

*****

Emma’s heart had fallen before the words had even left Regina’s lips. As if it knew. But her heart always had been 3 steps ahead of her brain. It had wrapped itself firmly around Regina in such a short span of time, and her brain had yet to make a valid attempt to do the same.

If someone were to ask her to analyze Regina Mills, she wouldn’t know where to start. She was a half-closed book still, a partial mystery. And yet her heart knew Regina’s instincts; its beats recognized the shifts in her moods and deciphered her motives long before a word could be spoken. Her blood pressure rose and fell in tandem with these shifts in mood and motive; it flowed through her veins with an intrinsic knowledge of the enigma beside her.

But that intrinsic, blood-deep knowledge did nothing to ease the dramatic drop felt in her heart and her stomach when Regina offered herself up to the enemy.

She heard Henry sputter, “You?” in confusion while her vision tunneled.

And the little imp commandeering the Wonderland throne merely tilted his head, interest piqued and eyes twinkling.

Regina stepped forward, eyes still on Rumplestiltskin. “You allow me to trade places with Henry and you’ve got me. The one person you’ve been dying to kill, completely at your mercy.”

“Oh, dearie.” He tsked, shaking his head in a pitying manner. “I never wanted to kill you. I still have no desire to do so.” His smile spread slowly as he taunted her softly, “What I’ve been saving for you will make death seem a tropical vacation.”

Another drop of the heart and Emma clamped her hand around Regina’s wrist, hard, hoping the desperation hadn’t yet reached her eyes. “Regina... no. You can’t.”

Regina turned to her with sadness laid heavily in the coffee-brown depths of her eyes. “I have to. It’s the only way.”

An eerie little giggle bubbled up from Rumpelstiltskin. He templed his hands together, eyes still set on Regina. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“Tell me what?” She looked to Regina, not caring in the slightest if Rumplestiltskin was toying with her.

Regina turned to her, eyes downcast as if ashamed. “The hat... the portal that we took to came here... it has rules.”

She glimpsed sidelong at Rumplestiltskin, asking with dread, “Like what?”

Henry jumped in before Regina could, his tone almost sad. “Only the same number of people going in can come out.”

Emma turned to Regina, eyes wide. “So... the two of us came in...”

She nodded, finishing the thought for her. “And only two can leave.” Sighing, she shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I couldn’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because. You would know exactly what I was up to and would try to put a stop to it. But I knew that this is how things have to be.” Tears came to her eyes, a light sheen, as she whispered, _“It’s the only way.”_

“Why are you doing this?” Emma whispered back desperately, able to feel the tears stinging her own eyes.

“Because of me,” Henry spoke up, still struggling against the golden restraints. “Because she wants me to know how much she loves me.” A bit more emphatically, he raised his voice and told her, “But I already know! I already know, Mom! And you don’t have to do this, _please don’t do this_ , he’ll do _terrible_ things to you!”

Tears spilled onto Regina’s cheeks at hearing Henry’s plaintive protests, but she forged on. “Better he do them to me, than to you. My mind is made up. This is how it must be. You’ll go back with Emma, and she’ll take care of you.”

“Well?” Rumplestiltskin, temporarily forgotten by the three in turmoil, held up his hands in a pseudo-shrug, each elbow braced on one arm of the throne. “You know I need to hear the magic word, dearie. Do we have a deal? You’re at my mercy, in exchange for your son?”

Regina swallowed hard and Emma watched her eyes settle on Henry, big and round and full of remorse. She closed them and more tears scudded down her cheeks. And when they opened again, they were on Rumplestiltskin, determination lighting the browns as she answered lowly, “Deal.”

He giggled, clapping excitedly, “Excellent!” and as he did so, the bindings vanished from Henry’s wrists and instead appeared around Regina’s.

As soon as he was freed, Henry launched himself at his foster mother, his arms around her waist holding tight. Emma could only stare, her body growing numb as she watched the goodbye taking place before her.

Regina lifted her bound wrists glowing gold, ruffling her son’s hair and holding him close as best she could. In a voice pregnant with pent-up sobs, she told him shakily, “You must believe how much I love you, Henry. How much I’ve _always_ loved you. You took up my entire heart the first time I held you. Please believe that.”

“I do. I believe you,” he told her, still clutching her waist tightly. He looked up at her, begging, “Please don’t do this!”

Swallowing hard, it looked as though she forced herself to ignore her son’s plea, instead turning to Emma. “I know you’ll get him home safe. I know you’ll take good care of him.”

“Please....” Emma struggled to hang on to the last threads of her emotions, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. “You can’t leave us.” Softer, in nothing more than a crippled whisper, she confessed, “I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“I must. And you can, I know you can.” Regina reached up, the golden restraints almost blinding in their brightness as she grasped Emma’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, meeting her eyes. “You trusted me. Now I’m trusting you. Take care of our son.”

Emma grasped the hand that held her chin and brought it down to her side, clasping tightly. She searched Regina’s eyes, wondering if it would be the last time.

“Emma...”

She lifted her eyes once more, watching another hard swallow make its way down Regina’s throat, disappearing at her collarbone.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

From the throne, Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes, sighing, “While this is all very touching, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for _silence_.” And with a flourish of his wrist, he turned Regina to stone.

“NO!” The scream burst from Emma’s lips before her brain could fully wrap itself around what had just happened. Whereas a split second before it had been warm flesh she grasped, now it was cold, gray stone. Carefully, she extracted her fingers, already feeling as though her blood was no longer flowing through her body -- as if it were as solid as Regina now was.

“Mom?” Henry stepped back, his eyes large and round as he regarded the monolithic statue.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t even move. Had she been paralyzed as well?

“Best run along, dearies,” Rumplestiltskin taunted them, rising from the throne and making his way toward the stone replacement of the former queen.

“Emma.” Henry grabbed at her, tugged on her sleeve, but her eyes remained cemented on Regina. _“Emma!”_

His voice jolted her back to reality and she looked down at him as he tried to drag her away.

“We need to go!”

But didn’t he understand that she couldn’t move? Rumplestiltskin had cast a spell on her as well, though not of the same severity.

“Hurry!” Then he gave her as hard a shove as his 10-year-old arms could manage and Emma felt her limbs move.

She stumbled, and looked down at her feet as if from somewhere outside of herself. She _could_ move. It wasn’t magic that had left her momentarily paralyzed. It was something else entirely.

“Don’t worry, dear Princess. I’ll take good care of your beloved,” he teased, and then made a sweeping flourish to each side as he added, “We _all_ will.”

She was about to ask him to elaborate, but then he didn’t need to. Out from behind the tall throne stepped Jefferson, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. And then a low growl, almost a snuff, drew her eyes upward where she saw the dragon -- Maleficent -- hovering in the air above them, tiny wings flapping as smoke billowed from the beast’s nostrils.

Jefferson stepped up to the stony version of Regina, scrutinizing her with a soft smile as if inspecting a sculpture. “We’ll make sure to show her the same amount of care and attention she showed to us.”

And then she felt herself splintered in two, part of her digging in and staying grounded right where she was, while the other part of her wanted to grab Henry and take off. “Lay a finger on her and you’ll be sorry.”

“Oooh,” Jefferson chuckled, nonplussed by the threat. “You’re about as scary as the little man, here.” He gestured to Henry.

Henry glared, squeezing Emma’s hand to the point she thought he’d crush her bones. “Let’s go. Come on!”

And Emma, her maternal protectiveness taking the wheel, took off with her son, back through the makeshift archways Regina had blasted into the maze of hedges. Down into a valley and up a hill they went until they reached the gigantic toadstool, though this time the caterpillar was nowhere to be found.

“How do we get back in there?” Henry asked, and Emma pulled him forward, unable to muster enough speech to answer.

Her limbs felt like they were no longer connected to her body. Her head was swimming and vision hazy... which wasn’t helped when they were drawn back through the spinning violet portal. The magical wind whipped around her and Emma felt it steal all the breath from her body.

By the time they had been dumped back onto the tile floor in the foyer, she was catatonic. She registered no pain from hitting the floor even though a shudder ran through her bones.

She felt strong hands grabbing her, lifting her up while she clung to Henry’s hand.

“Emma?” Brown hair and concerned brown eyes swam in front of her and she swayed.

Another hand caught her around the waist, holding her up and she heard voices echoing in her head.

_“Emma, are you alright? What happened?”_

_“What’s wrong with her? Did something happen to her? Emma, say something!”_

Fingers snapped in front of her face and she attempted to focus on the motion, only to have her eyes focus on a spot far off in the distance.

_“She’s not responding. Henry, what happened?”_

_“I think... I think she’s in shock.”_

The voices continued to echo, bouncing around every corner of her head. She heard her son explaining what had happened to him when he had been abducted by Jefferson. Heard him mention something about another portal, and how he had been held captive at the palace of the Queen of Hearts.

The voices got further and further off, more muffled as if she was losing her hearing. She continued to stare at that one spot in the distance, wondering if she was paralyzed again. She told herself to move her hand, but her body was too exhausted, too numb to comply with her internal demand.

Finally, her hearing cleared enough that she was able to make out two words, in her father’s voice:

_“Where’s Regina?”_

And she exploded in tears.

 

TBC


	24. Vantagepoints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These vast catacombs beneath Storybrooke had been her landfill for the last 28 timeless years. It was where she had chucked the coffin. Maleficent’s scepter. Maleficent herself. Every dirty little secret she hadn’t wanted to hang onto ended up here. So it was only fitting that she be the final throwaway.

*****

Sounds returned to her first: hollow, echoing sounds. Next was taste -- the dryness like cotton in her mouth as her tongue scraped across her lips. And then came smell -- dust, mold, ash and a cornucopia of other scents, like a musty basement. Her limbs ached and she knew that feeling had returned to them, as if they had fallen asleep and gone numb.

“Wakey wakey...”

Regina opened her eyes with a gasp. She looked down to see that her wrists were no longer bound together. Instead, they were each bound to a separate rock on either side of her, the glowing golden rope embedded deep in the stone.

She was cold; everything around her was cold, including the sparkling eyes of the little imp that giggled in front of her. She lunged at him, temporarily forgetting her restraints.

“Glad to see your, ehm... stone-faced resolve has faded,” he taunted her.

“Where the hell have you taken me?”

“You mean you don’t recognize it?” a third voice rang out.

Regina looked up to see Maleficent striding toward her, that vacant, vapid smile in place. “You only just visited me here a few days ago, Reggie darling.”

She threw a glance at her surroundings, still trying to regain her bearings. Sure enough, there was the glass coffin in which she imprisoned Snow, and off in the corner was the darkened elevator shaft and the twisted, crushed remains of the elevator car.

“So this is it,” she addressed Rumplestiltskin, staring him down despite the nagging inner knowledge that she was, for once, completely helpless. “This is where you’ve arranged for my final judgment.”

It was fitting in a way, though she would never give him credit for it. These vast catacombs beneath Storybrooke had been her landfill for the last 28 timeless years. It was where she had chucked the coffin. Maleficent’s scepter. Maleficent herself. Every dirty little secret she _hadn’t_ wanted to hang onto ended up here. So it was only fitting that she be the final throwaway.

“No judgment here, dearie! Just good old-fashioned _fun_.” As the final syllable left his lips, he wound up like a pitcher and whipped a violet ball of energy at her, hitting her in the abdomen.

Regina gasped, fists clenching against the bindings in pain as she immediately felt the pull -- tiny invisible fingers grasping, clawing at her, pulling her insides out. But they weren’t her insides. She looked down, watching the gathering purple light growing brighter and brighter against her stomach, a long stream of several bolts of lightning connecting her to Rumplestiltskin’s outstretched hand.

Maleficent looked on in what Regina could only think to describe as a mix of awe and glee. She was half surprised the witch hadn’t begun jumping up and down.

She felt tired; exhausted, really. Her limbs ached and it felt like the very breath was being pulled from her body. It seemed to carry on and on, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging him to stop. She refused to be the one to say ‘please’ in this situation. He took joy in watching her knuckle under, watching her bend to his whim. He wouldn’t get an ounce of pleasure from it this time.

So she grit her teeth against the pain and thought of her son. She closed her eyes and heard his laugh bouncing around her head, breathless and gasping when she would mercilessly tickle him. She remembered all their times out on the swing, under the stars, the bench rocking beneath them as she stroked his hair and lulled him to sleep. She remembered the way he would smile, just barely hanging on to his consciousness, and tell her on a sigh while snuggling under his blanket, _“You’re my favoritest mommy.”_

And she remembered the way her heart warmed from his small toddler voice; the way she would dust kisses to his soft temple and freshly-shampooed hair, echoing, _“You’re my favoritest son,”_ and taking joy in the knowledge that it was the last thing he heard as he drifted off to dreamland.

By the time she came back to herself, the pain had stopped. There was no longer anything pulling at her, and she slumped exhaustively onto her knees, the bindings holding her arms up behind her. She dipped her head and caught her breath, an ache still sitting low in her belly.

She lifted her head when she heard his satisfied little giggle, and she glared up at him through her lashes. The glare didn’t last long, however, when she saw the large, glowing purple ball hovering just inches above his upturned palm. And she couldn’t help herself: “What is that?”

“Hmm?” He flicked his brows upward innocently, throwing a glance at the violet ball of energy. “Oh this? Not much. Just a little something to split between the four of us.” With a flutter of his fingers, the ball split into four smaller balls of energy, orbiting around one another above his palm.

Maleficent and Jefferson flanked him on either side, Maleficent looking excited while Jefferson retained his usual expression of indifference. Then, Regina watched as two balls of energy floated up, one heading toward Maleficent while the other floated toward Jefferson.

Happily, Maleficent held out her scepter and the energy was captured within the globe on top. The globe she could have sworn she had broken long ago. The other that had made its way toward Jefferson smoothed into a long line of purple smoke, which Jefferson then inhaled, his eyes flashing violet for a moment before a smirk curled his lips.

Then, there was the third ball of energy; this one rose slowly, hovering in front of Rumplestiltskin’s face. With a smile, he opened his mouth and then closed it around the energy ball. Like plucking a grape from a vine dangling overhead. Regina watched the glow sliding down his throat until it disappeared.

“Whose is the fourth?” she heard herself asking, a bit redundantly. There was no doubt in her mind as to who the final recipient was.

“It’s mine.” A fourth, all-too-familiar voice rang out, and the current three captors stepped aside, making way for their guest.

She stepped up beside Rumplestiltskin and took hold of the last ball of energy, inhaling it just as Jefferson had. As her eyes glowed violet, she smiled malevolently down at Regina.

“Hello, my love,” Cora cooed, without a hint of affection in her tone.

And though Regina was expecting her, it didn’t stop the sensation of her stomach falling past her feet as she returned the greeting. “Mother.”

  
*****

James had always known that at some point, he would assume the throne. Long ago, he had resigned himself to his fate as a reluctant king, married to Princess Abigail. Then when Snow came along, he envisioned himself as the mighty king that usurped both George and Regina as a means of salvaging the kingdom.

Now, this was his reality -- being a displaced king in a town stuck out of time, straddling his competing impulses: to flee with his family, and to take responsibility for the fate of his people in a quest for glory.

Regina’s abdication left he and Snow in the roles of leader without much time to prepare. They’d only just regained their memories; the urge to take back the kingdom had been far from their minds. And now it was in their hands willingly, something that threw them both for quite a loop.

Regina had changed in ways he never could have anticipated. His initial instinct when the curse broke was to find Regina and restrain her; that she would be eager to unleash magical havoc on the citizens of Storybrooke. Emma’s claim that she had vanished never sat well with him. Snow may have been a willing buyer, and perhaps David Nolan would have been gullible enough to believe, but he, the dragon-slaying replacement prince, knew a lie when he saw one.

He had allowed Emma a few days’ luxury of pretending to believe. Of playing along. But her adamance that Regina was not a threat gave him cause to broach the subject with her privately. And at his first mention of Regina’s name, he saw the shift in his daughter’s features. And though he’d only known her for fleeting moments at birth, and a few chance encounters near the end of the curse, he knew the implication of that brief facial shift.

Emma may not have known at the time, but he did. And now there was no doubt. Now, with his daughter unconscious in the master bedroom from a combination of sleeping pills and excessive crying... there was not a sliver of doubt left within him.

Emma had feelings for Regina. Feelings that he perhaps would never be able to fully understand, but overwhelming feelings nonetheless.

He had to wonder how Snow was coping with all of this. She had been blissfully ignorant for days. Seeing Regina in person again, and seeing that Emma had been protecting her all along, had to have lifted the veil a bit. Not to mention the easy contact between Regina and their daughter -- contact that seemed almost instinctual. Regina’s fingers fluttered and Emma would reach toward them without looking. The two of them had a connection.

And now that Regina had sacrificed herself and left Emma inconsolable, James had to wonder if his wife’s silence was an indication of her processing what was happening, or of her denial.

“I just don’t understand,” he heard her murmur beside him while they sat at the table in the dining room. “I don’t understand why Regina wouldn’t tell Emma about those rules.”

“Because she knew Emma would try to stop her, and I don’t think she wanted her to,” Henry replied. He sat across from them at the table, feet swinging under his chair with a childlike innocence though his expression was somber and downcast. His fingers slid over the shiny surface of the table, drawing indecipherable patterns.

James felt his wife look over at him curiously. “What did she say to you? Before she and Emma went into the portal, I mean.”

The moment came back to him as clearly as if it was happening again:

_“James, a word please.”_

_“Now?” Emma blurted her surprise. “We have to go before this thing closes on us!”_

_Regina shook her head, telling her, “It won’t go anywhere until we jump in.” Then, she pulled him aside._

_“What is so urgent, Regina?”_

_“You must listen to me. Please. No matter what happens in Wonderland, you must promise me you will do everything in your power to keep Henry and Emma safe.”_

_“Why? Regina, what--”_

_“Just promise me.” After reading his hesitation, she tilted her head and her eyes softened. “Please. They’re all I have left.”_

_And he had searched her eyes back and forth for a long moment, finally nodding and answering, “I promise.”_

_Then they shook hands and the agreement had been struck. And he watched Regina return to his daughter’s side, the two of them plummeting into the swirling violet chasm beneath them._

“James?”

Snow’s voice drew him from his thoughts, and he looked over at her. She raised her brows expectantly.

To his grandson, he said, “She made me promise to keep you and Emma safe, no matter what happens.”

If possible, Henry looked even more depressed. “Yeah. Because she never planned on coming back.”

Snow nodded to herself, murmuring quietly, “And now Emma has to raise a son on her own. She’s scared. That’s why she was so upset.”

James had all he could do not to close his eyes and sigh in disappointment. _Oh Snow..._

Instead, he exchanged a look with Henry, who nodded at the newly-appointed queen and agreed, “Yep, that’s probably why.”

“I should go check on her.” She pushed herself up.

Instinctively, James laid a hand over hers. “No. You, um... you should get to town hall. Everyone is confused about what’s going on. You’ll need to reassure them.” Nodding toward their grandson, he told her, “I’ll stay here with Emma and Henry.”

His wife narrowed her eyes at him, scrutinizing, but finally she nodded and relented. “Alright. That’s probably a good idea. As much as I’d like you there with me, you’re right - one of us will need to stay with Henry.”

“Right,” he agreed. “And it’s your father’s kingdom. You should be the one to take the lead.”

Shortly thereafter, Snow White took her leave of them, James and Henry still sitting at the dining room table watching the front door she had just retreated through. He felt his grandson looking at him, and side-eyed him.

“You couldn’t tell her, huh?”

How much did this boy really know? He hadn’t spent much time around him save for the couple of overnight stays at the loft. He seemed perceptive enough, but how much did he really understand about what was going on? “Tell her what?”

Henry tilted his head at him, raising his eyebrows. “I’m eleven, I’m not stupid. My moms love each other.”

Now it was James’ turn to raise his brows. “They do?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “They just don’t know it yet.”

“I see. And you think that’s why Regina surrendered to Rumplestiltskin?”

“That’s part of it, yeah.” He ducked his head, countenance sad once again.

James studied him. “Regina... your mom, I mean... she said something to me before she and Emma went to Wonderland to find you.”

Henry glanced up.

“She said that you and Emma were all she had left.”

“Are you gonna help us save her?”

James swallowed, at war with himself. There was a sliver of doubt still lingering about Regina... and a slight fear that she could revert to her evil ways. But he thought of the way she practically begged him to watch over Emma and Henry... the tremor in her voice when she all but confessed that they were everything to her. And he answered, “Of course I’ll help you save her.”

Trouble was, he didn’t know where to start.

  
*****

“So this is what you’ve amounted to. Here I thought once you banished me to Wonderland you would rise to true greatness. And what do you do instead? Cast a silly curse that was far too easy to break. With _love_ , of all things.” Cora sneered down at her daughter. “Pathetic.”

“I don’t care, mother,” Regina seethed through clenched teeth, still struggling against the golden bindings despite the knowledge that it was an exercise in futility. “For so long I sought your approval. Your love. I even made the mistake of trying to emulate you. Only to come to the realization that _you_ are the pathetic one.”

“Enough,” Cora commanded, low and stern.

“No. You no longer frighten me. Because I see you for what you truly are. A sad old crone who resorts to stealing hearts because she’s never had one of her own.”

“I said _enough!”_ Outstretching a hand, Cora shot violet lightning at her daughter, sending her into convulsions on the ground.

Regina’s entire body seized, almost as if she’d been hit by a taser, and she grit her teeth against the blinding pain, closing her eyes. This time, the sight of Emma filled her mind’s eye. The way her hair cascaded into her eyes, rich golden curls, when she would look down at her lap as they sat out on the swing. She thought of the way her hand would sweep some of the curls behind her ear, her close-cropped nails picking at imaginary spots on her wine glass.

Her torture ended far earlier than she’d anticipated, Rumplestiltskin stepping forward and laying a hand on Cora’s arm. “Now now, dearie... I don’t believe that’s how I taught you so long ago.”

Cora smiled, the expression devoid of any mirth, as her eyes glinted wickedly. “You’re right, dear Rumple. Perhaps I’ve forgotten. Would you care to show me again?”

He grinned. “I’d be delighted.”

Regina cried out as she was seized by more bolts of violet light, her teeth clattering together as tiny bolts of electricity hummed between them. Tears escaped her eyelids but she refused to let a sob escape, instead closing her eyes once again and trying to lose herself in her memories.

She thought of the look that came across Emma’s features just before she leaned in for that very first kiss. Some mixture of fear and dawning realization before their lips connected. And she remembered the way they had connected - the awkwardness had lasted a mere split-second before instinct took over; instinct and months-worth of repressed tension, fueling the fire between their lips.

She thought of how she could feel Emma’s heart pounding as they sat pressed together on the bench, and how it pounded in time with hers. She remembered the tingling sensation that swept over her body as she realized she wanted things to continue; as she invited Emma to join her in the bedroom. And then there was the emotional turmoil of the ensuing hours -- the rejection she’d faced and Emma’s fumbling excuses. She thought of how the reasonable excuses did nothing to squelch the fire she saw in the sheriff’s eyes, and how she knew that fire was a mirror of her own.

But her memories soon became no match for the torture she was undergoing in reality, a scream ripping forth from her lips as a searing pain shot through her from head to toe. She heard Maleficent’s maniacal giggle, as well as her mother’s approving hum.

“Very nicely done,” she congratulated Rumplestiltskin. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”

Regina slumped over when Rumplestiltskin released her, curling into a ball on the ground and wishing she could somehow soothe her throbbing insides. Her chest heaved in a quest for air and tears flowed freely down her face, though she refused to cry. A slow clicking of heels came closer, and she looked up when she felt someone towering over her.

Cora quirked a brow and asked her, “Had enough yet, darling?”

So Regina steeled her courage and ground out, “Not even close,” before she was assailed with more searing waves of electric pain.

  
*****

“You really think the answer could be here somewhere?” James asked, sitting beside his grandson at the foot of his twin bed.

Henry shrugged, the large leather-bound ‘Once Upon a Time’ book across his lap. “Couldn’t hurt to look.”

Together, they paged through story after story. James saw his own laid out in front of him -- the son of a shepherd, propositioned by a powerful king to replace his slain son. His quest to find true happiness despite his arranged marriage, and his chance encounter with a refugee princess named Snow White.

He saw Ruby’s story and Graham’s -- the huntsman who helped him escape Regina. He read of the dwarves and the fairies, and saw the illustrations of Regina and her stable boy, Daniel. Finally Henry landed on the story of Rumplestiltskin, a coward abandoned by his wife when she fell in love with a pirate captain. A cowardly man who then sought unending power and ignored the consequences.

“Wait, here it is,” he murmured, pressing a finger to the open book to forestall Henry turning the page. He leaned closer to the page, scanning both the text and the illustration.

There was mention of a dagger... a magical dagger that gave power to the person who wielded it. More specifically, the person who killed the one in possession of it. However, the story was not as detailed as he would have liked. “I need to know more about this dagger,” he said aloud, pointing to the illustration of the shiny kris that bore the name of ‘Rumplestiltskin.’

“I think I know someone that could help us,” Henry told him. “But we’d have to leave Emma for a little bit.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I think so. But I haven’t seen him since the curse broke.”

James drew in a breath and sighed it out, knowing they didn’t have many options. “Well... I guess that’s a start.” Throwing a glance out the door and down the hall, toward where Emma still laid unconscious in the master bedroom, he told his grandson, “We’d better hurry,” as he pulled him up by the collar and led him out of the house.

  
*****

Regina gasped, seized by the throat and lifted off her feet. Her eyes stared into the cold depths of Jefferson’s as he clenched his jaw and tightened his grip around her. The magic he’d ingested had given him strength of an almost superhuman quality. She clawed at his hands, but he never flinched.

She heard his voice, just barely over her gagging. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, Regina? To be _ripped_ from your child? To promise them you’ll be back shortly and then never see them again?” He smirked. “It’s like suffocating. Choking. Like having every breath stolen from your body. Then when you finally get to see them again... and you see them in a new family, with no memory of who you are...”

He dropped her abruptly and she cried out as she fell several feet to the ground.

"It's like being dropped on your ass."

She felt her rib crack once again... practically in the same place it had cracked when she and Emma were in the elevator car. Her bones ached and she felt her skin bruising already from Jefferson’s grip. Her breath was slow to return and she slumped over a nearby stone, knowing she wouldn’t be offered much time to regain her bearings before the next round of torture was to begin.

She threw a glare up at Maleficent as the witch crouched beside her. “And what do you have in store for me?”

Maleficent pouted. “Oh, Reggie...” She swept a hand through Regina’s hair and cooed, “Darling, I don’t want to hurt you. You’re one of my dearest friends.”

She was exhausted from the torture. So exhausted she couldn’t even bring herself to lift her head and glare. But Maleficent slid her hand gently under Regina’s chin and lifted, allowing them to meet eyes. Regina did her best to glare, though she was certain it came out as nothing more than a pained wince. “Then why are you here?”

Maleficent shrugged, expression full of nonchalance. “I was promised a show. Not to mention....” She swept her scepter down toward her, focusing Regina’s gaze on the swirling violet smoke within the globe on top. As she passed her hand over it, a flame lit within the glass globe. And she smiled, finishing the thought, “I wanted my fire back.”

Regina let out a breath when Maleficent swiftly dropped her chin, getting to her feet and plucking the globe from the top of her scepter. “When your little princess ran me through with her daddy’s sword, she took my fire away. So when Rumple promised I could get it back, I jumped at the chance to strike a deal with him. And now... now it’s mine once more.”

Regina watched as she ran the globe over and over between her hands, contact juggling before the globe began to lift itself in the air. Maleficent giggled, the sound echoing in the underground caverns before smoke consumed her. Regina blinked several times in succession as the smoke got in her eyes, stealing her breath and making her cough. The ground shook beneath her and she knew what was coming.

And sure enough once the smoke cleared, Maleficent had taken to her other form, perched high on some of the stone bluffs etched into Storybrooke’s underbelly. She breathed into a hollow chasm, filling it with fire and lava, and Regina threw up an arm to shield her eyes as ash and cinders swirled around her.

“Alright, dearie!” Rumplestiltskin appeared from behind the rocks, gleeful smile in place as he clapped his hands, twice. As he did, the golden bindings disappeared and Regina was released, looking up at him in surprise. His smile remained as he told her in a whisper, “Time to run,” and Regina took off, able to feel Maleficent advancing behind her.

She knew that, in her human form, Maleficent may have felt some twisted lingering sense of loyalty... but as a dragon, she would know nothing but the urge to kill. So she launched herself at a wall and hurriedly sought out footholds, making her way up the side of one of the cliffs.

But she knew Maleficent would be too fast. She felt a pull on the back of her jacket and she was airborne, smoke and fire singeing the cuffs of her pants as she slammed against stone on the other side of the cavern. The wind knocked out of her upon impact and she just barely gasped as she slid down the side of the wall, crumpling on the floor. She felt the first trickling of blood at her left nostril, and more at the corner of her mouth, as she rested her cheek on the ground.

She overheard her mother saying something to Rumplestiltskin, but the darkness was already closing in on her as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Her breath was thready and erratic. She felt blood at the back of her throat as she let all of her muscles go limp, the name sliding from her lips like a final prayer.

“Emma...”

  
*****

Her eyes snapped open, the ceiling filling her field of vision. Her heart thudded in her ears and she had heard her name just as loudly as if it was uttered beside her. “Regina,” she breathed, and began to push herself up.

Her arms shook as she braced herself, and she kept going despite her swimming head and bleary eyes. “Regina...”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her back.

Her eyes were sliding closed again but she reached out to swing at whoever had a hold on her. She just narrowly missed a chin and heard a male chuckle.

“Emma, Emma... easy.”

“No. No... Regina...”

A hand slid through her hair and she felt an instant sensation of calm, though she wasn’t certain why. And then she heard a small voice. “It’s okay.”

“Henry?” She forced her eyes open again, attempting once more to push herself up.

With him sat her father... David Nolan, Prince James, whoever... on the edge of the bed. His hands remained on her shoulders, forcing her to lean back against the headboard.

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “We’re going to save Regina. It will all be okay.”

“How?”

“We found some help,” Henry told her.

As her eyes swam into focus, she followed their gaze to the doorway of the master bedroom... or more specifically, to who was leaning against the doorway regarding her.

“August?”

 

**TBC**


	25. Bottled Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina was badly beaten. Bruises marred her once flawless skin. Dried blood had crusted at the corner of her mouth, on her cheekbone and temple. And the way she cradled her ribs left Emma with no doubt that she had a broken bone or two.

*****

“So... that’s what you’ve missed,” Emma concluded, cradling the mug of hot cocoa in her hands.

The bench swing rocked gently, creaking woodenly as she and August sat side-by-side, staring out at Regina’s revived honeycrisp tree. August nodded, eyes focused somewhere in the distance thoughtfully.

“Well. That’s a... lot to take in,” he replied, after a long moment of silence had passed.

Emma chuckled, just barely. “I suppose it’s a pretty huge shift from where you and I left off.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure. We went from you wanting to destroy Regina... to wanting to rescue her and keep her from being destroyed. Yeah I’d say that’s a bit of an attitude change.”

“August, look... I know this is a little, um,” she furrowed her brows, struggling for the right term and coming up with nothing better than, “Weird, but--”

“Hey, hey.” His hand gently patted her knee, and he nudged her good-naturedly. “Listen, if there’s one thing I retained from the fairytale world, it’s that love trumps all. And that love can sometimes come about in extraordinary circumstances, when we least expect it.”

“Love.” The term made her heart skip wildly, though it also induced a bit of nausea. She tucked her hair behind her ear, keeping her gaze on her hot cocoa, watching the sprinkle of cinnamon swirl in the liquid as she murmured, “I-I don’t... I don’t know that it’s _love_ necessarily.”

When she didn’t get a response, she looked up to find August regarding her crookedly, his eyes narrowed in skepticism. “Really.”

She nodded. “Yeah, really. I mean, I-I care about Regina for sure. And, we obviously share this... connection, but--”

“Come on, Emma,” he sighed. “After everything you’ve just told me... after everything you’ve gone through since the curse broke... do you _still_ need me to convince you of what’s right in front of your face?”

She furrowed her brows. “What?”

“From what Henry told me, you were damn-near comatose when you came back from Wonderland without Regina.”

“Well, it was kind of a shock,” she reasoned.

August gave her a sideways smirk -- the kind that grated on her, like he knew something she didn’t. “Alright,” he relented, holding up his hands and standing up. “If you really don’t think you feel anything other than ‘care’ for Regina, that’s fine. You’ll come around.”

She rolled her eyes, following him inside. “There’s nothing to ‘come around’ to. I should know better than anyone how I feel.”

“Okay,” he brushed her off, and she felt for a moment as if he were her smug older brother, a slight urge to punch him in the shoulder assailing her briefly before he changed the subject. “So, you are in need of a way to defeat Rumplestiltskin.”

“Yes.”

The two of them joined James and Henry in the dining room, the four of them seated around the table to discuss specifics. Henry pulled out his book and passed it to August, who smiled at him. “Thanks, kid. Now...” he flipped through the pages, folding the book open on an illustration of a dagger. “There is a surefire way to take him down, but I don’t know that you’re gonna be all that keen on it.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

August held her gaze as he told her softly, “Because you’re going to have to kill him.”

  
*****

Regina’s head pounded; so much so that she could barely lift herself up. Her cheek remained pressed to the stone she was slumped against, her breath coming in thready draws of air. She felt woozy, her vision blurry. Her skin was hard where the blood had dried -- some at the corner of her mouth, a bit on her cheekbone, and some at her temple. Her body was bruised and beaten, and she felt certain that more than one bone had been broken in the midst of her torture.

But she was powerless. Her magic had been ripped from inside of her and distributed among her foes. So she laid helpless -- a queen without power. But then again, she wasn’t even a queen anymore. She was nothing.

Then she felt hands on her face. On her neck, on her arms, gently lifting her and encouraging her to sit. “Regina...”

The whisper was familiar, though she couldn’t place it. She tried to force her eyes to focus, but focus wouldn’t come. “Who’s there?” she croaked, dried blood at the back of her throat causing her to rasp.

“It’s me.”

A pair of kind blue eyes hovered in her field of vision, “Daniel?!” and she thought perhaps she had already died.

He smiled at her and tilted his head... her stable boy, her Daniel, crouched in front of her with his hands gripping hers. “I’ve missed you,” he told her, eyes traveling over her face.

She exhaled, a teary smile making its way across her features. She reached for him, but her hands were too weak. “Daniel, I’ve missed you as well.”

“You’re in pain. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“You shouldn’t have to suffer any longer.”

She choked back a sob. “No I shouldn’t.”

“Then let go.”

That seemed to drag her back to reality. “What?”

“Let go, Regina. There’s nothing left for you here, and they won’t let you leave in one piece. It’s time to let go.”

“Daniel...”

“Just think of it. The two of us, together... forever... finally. We’ll get to have everything we never got to have. We’ll feel everything we never got to feel.” He reached out and laid a hand over her heart. “We can have everything if you just let yourself go.”

She swallowed her cries, finally mustering enough strength to reach for him. Her hand skirted along his jawline, feeling the smoothness and reveling in his smile. “My Daniel...”

He grasped both her hands once more, dipping his head to kiss them. “Come with me, Regina. We’ll be so happy.”

She tilted her head, squeezing his hands tight as she whispered sadly, “You were all I ever wanted...”

“I know.”

“Everything I did -- everything I became -- was because I lost you. Because she took you away from me.”

“I know, my love. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m right here. You and I can be together. _Just let go_.”

Regina swallowed hard, searching his eyes. “I can’t.”

His face fell, and his grip slackened. “Why not? I thought I was all you ever wanted.”

“And you were.” Leaning in close, she squeezed his hands again and whispered, “ _Were_.”

Daniel just stared at her.

“I’m so sorry, Daniel. I loved you so much...” She choked back another sob. “So much that losing you changed me into somebody I didn’t recognize. I punished so many over your death. So many that I lost sight of myself.”

“I can remind you of who you are.”

Regina closed her eyes briefly, a tear escaping each lid as she whispered, “Somebody already has.” When she opened her eyes, her resolve had returned, and she told him strongly, “And I’m not ready to leave her.”

“Her?” He frowned. “But--”

“You’ve only seen the good in me, Daniel. You would be so appalled if you knew all that I’ve done. She does -- she knows. She’s seen the good and the bad in me and she pushes me to be better, to overcome all the darkness in my past.” She shook her head. “I can’t leave her. Or my son. I’ve got a beautiful son, Daniel. I wouldn’t be half as strong as I am now without him. I can’t just leave him behind. I’m so sorry. I have to keep fighting. For both of them.” Leaning in, she captured his gaze again. “But you’re right about letting go. I _do_ need to let go. I need to let go of _you_.” She looked down at the hand she was holding, bringing it up to her lips and pressing a kiss to it, closing her eyes as she whispered, “Goodbye, Daniel.”

Daniel dipped his head sadly, and he began to vanish before her eyes. Regina tried to squeeze his hands, but he was already dissipating into smoke in front of her. “Daniel? Daniel!”

“Oh this is just pathetic.” Cora strolled up to her, brushing away the remnants of smoke from Daniel’s brief appearance. Casting a sharp look over her shoulder, she leveled Rumplestiltskin with her glare. “I thought you said that would work.”

“I believe I underestimated the, uh... connections she has here in Storybrooke.”

Regina glared up at her mother. “You did that?”

“Of course I did,” she spat. “I’m getting tired of this game.”

“Then why don’t you just kill me, mother.” Regina curled her lip in a sneer.

Cora responded by tilting her head, smiling an unkind, loveless smile. “Now darling, I would never do that. You’re my daughter.”

Instead, Cora snapped her fingers, and a block of ice appeared. Regina stumbled to her feet, no longer bound now that she was no longer a threat. The top of the block slid off, revealing rippling water beneath. A pool of sorts, encased in ice.

She looked up at her mother. “What’s that?”

“That, my dear, is your tomb. Which you will willingly climb into.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me, mother.”

“Oh this won’t kill you. Not quickly, anyway. No, death will be years and years away for you. This will allow you plenty of time to... ruminate... over your life’s decisions. Over all the ways you’ve disappointed me.” Cora curled her lip in disgust. “I just wanted you to rise to greatness. Was that too much to ask?”

Spinning away, she strode toward where Rumplestiltskin was perched, on a high ledge, with Maleficent in her dragon form high above them and Jefferson looking on in an almost bored fashion. “I wanted you to make something of yourself. And of course your bumbling father was no help.”

Regina grit her teeth, clenching her aching fists at her side. “You leave him out of this.”

“Why, darling? Sore subject? I can’t imagine why -- it’s not as if he tried to step in at any point, to stick up for you. He was and always had been nothing but a coward. I only chose him as a husband because I knew that with him, I could do as I pleased.”

“Stop,” she ground out.

“Stop?” Cora smiled. “I’ve barely begun.”

  
*****

Emma paced back and forth at the head of the table, anxiously biting her lower lip. August, Henry and James sat at the table, watching her.

“Emma,” August called to her. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, planting one hand on her hip. “I don’t know, I just... I need a minute to think.”

“You’ve had like ten of those in a row now,” Henry commented, wincing just a bit.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She shook her head, turning to August. “I don’t think I can kill anyone. Even him.”

“Even if he’s already killed Regina?” James quirked an eyebrow at his daughter.

“He hasn’t,” she told him, still pacing. “I can tell.”

Henry furrowed his brows in confusion at that. “How?”

Because her heart was infused with Regina’s blood. Its solid, steady beating let her know that life still flowed through her counterpart.

“I just can,” she finally answered her son. After another moment’s thought, she strode quickly for the foyer, listening to the three men scramble after her, anxious to see what she was doing.

She stopped in front of the small oval mirror and waved her hand across it, closing her eyes and wishing to see Regina. When she opened them, a smoke was clearing from inside the mirror... and suddenly there she was.

“Regina!” she gasped, part of her wanting to pick the mirror up and hug it close.

Regina was badly beaten. Bruises marred her once flawless skin. Dried blood had crusted at the corner of her mouth, on her cheekbone and temple. And the way she cradled her ribs left Emma with no doubt that she had a broken bone or two.

Instinctively, she reached out and touched the mirror, her finger skating over the image of Regina’s dark hair.

“What have they done to her?” her father asked, stepping up beside her.

“They tortured her.”

She saw an older woman with dark hair -- undoubtedly Regina’s mother, striding toward her with a self-satisfied smirk curling her lips. She turned to Rumplestiltskin and nodded. “It’s time.”

Emma’s heart seized in her throat. “Time. Time for what? What the hell are you gonna do to her?”

“Can they hear you?” August asked, behind her.

Emma came back to herself and sighed in defeat, telling him, “No. They can’t.”

But Regina had to feel her... right?

**

“Emma,” Regina breathed, able to sense her in the beats of her heart. Luckily, the sound skirted just along the edges of her mother’s and Rumplestiltskin’s hearing, and they carried on their taunting.

“Your father was such a simple fool,” Cora chuckled.

“Stop,” she growled, giving her mother a murderous glance through her lashes.

“Why, darling? The guilt too much for you?” Cora advanced with a smile. “Your father was the only one who loved you. And you murdered him, for what? A silly curse that was broken with love. Ironic, isn’t it?” She shrugged. “But then again, I suppose he didn’t even love you enough to stop me when I was at my best.” She sighed wistfully. “I can almost hear him now: ‘Cora, stop. Cora, you’re hurting her. Cora, please put her down, she’s our daughter.’” She laughed, shaking her head. “Simple, simple fool.”

Regina’s heart thudded in her chest as Rumplestiltskin stood at her mother’s side, both of them grinning at her maliciously. She’d had enough of their games. “Whatever you’re going to do, just do it. This fanfare’s getting just a little annoying.”

“You’re right, darling,” Cora cooed. Then, she nodded to Rumplestiltskin.

“Just like I showed you, eh dearie?” he asked her, then lunged forward.

Regina cried out as his hand plunged inside her chest. She felt her heart beating an odd rhythm and knew all at once what her mother had planned.

His fingers closed around the fragile organ and Regina felt something rip inside of her. Before she knew it, her heart was glowing in his hand.

**

“NO!” Emma screamed, grabbing the mirror off the wall.

August and her father reached for her, struggled against her grip as she heard Henry burst into tears.

“They’re going to kill her!” he yelled tearfully.

She reached for him, pressing him against her as he cried, while August recovered the mirror and replaced it on the wall, the image now gone.

Her breath was thready and her chest ached. As if her own heart was being ripped from her body. And as she held her son close, she felt him trembling and knew what had to be done.

Looking up through her lashes, still trying to keep her breathing steady, she practically growled at August, “Take me to that dagger.”

**

Regina gasped, slumping against a tall stone as she watched Rumplestiltskin turn her glowing heart in his hand, a high-pitched giggle leaving his lips. “Splendid! Now...” he gave the organ a squeeze as he hissed, “Get in.”

He nodded toward the icy tomb and Regina’s body lurched forward of its own volition, under his complete control. Her mother watched on with a malevolent smile, lowly congratulating Rumplestiltskin for his efforts.

“It’s all going according to plan,” she murmured, hands clasped in front of her. “Once we gather the hearts of the new King and Queen, not to mention their sniveling daughter and grandson, we can share complete control of all the realms.”

Regina tried to fight against the movement of her limbs as her arms and legs lowered her into the enchanted pool of ice, but it was of no use. Luckily, she had just enough strength to catch what her mother had missed: the murderous look from Rumplestiltskin to Cora.

The cool water lapped around her frame and she shivered. She didn't become wet, however. Merely cold. The water was enchanted, and chilled her body though it kept her dry. Rumplestiltskin squeezed her heart again and she gasped, lowering herself further and further.

She was on her back and the water filled her field of vision, though she could still see through it clearly as if looking through glass. Above her, she watched her mother hold open one of her trademark velvet-lined boxes. Rumplestiltskin placed her heart inside and Cora clasped it shut.

As she heard the ice block being dragged over the top of the tomb, as she watched herself be buried, she heard her mother’s low chuckle. And the final thing she heard was Rumplestiltskin’s taunting tone:

“Long live the queen.”

  
*****

Emma shivered, feeling suddenly cold despite the general warmth in the air as they made their way to the pawn shop. Street lamps flickered and scattered newspapers drifted down the road. There wasn’t a soul in sight save for she or August, and Emma wondered if perhaps her mother had directed everyone underground until the battle was over. She wondered if her father had done the same with himself and Henry.

“I won’t come back without her, okay?” she had promised him, hugging him close just before they left.

Henry had nodded, but had been too distraught from seeing Regina’s heart ripped from her chest to say anything. He merely clung to the prince as she and August took off.

The sound of breaking glass jarred her back to reality and she spun to see August breaking one of the small panes of glass in the pawn shop door. “What the hell are you doing?” she whispered.

“I don’t have a key. Do you?”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes. “You pick the weirdest damn times to take the moral high ground.”

“Temporary lapse in judgment. Just get me in there.”

“You got it.” With a swift flick of the wrist, the door was unlocked and swung open easily.

They decided to forego the lights, not wanting to draw attention to themselves on the off-chance that someone was out and about that evening, and instead opted for flashlights. The beams swept over the various counters and shelves in the pawn shop, though nothing revealed the dagger.

“He wouldn’t have it in plain sight,” August reasoned, leap-frogging over the counter and heading for the back office.

Emma continued to rifle through drawers and cabinets in the main store area, listening to the sounds of shattering glass and shuffling papers. Then, all noise stopped. She glanced up. “August?”

She heard his boots on the tile floor and soon he had emerged, pushing back the curtain with a smile. “I believe this is what you’re looking for.”

He held out a kris to her with a golden, ornate hilt. Across the blade was emblazoned the name ‘Rumplestiltskin.’ It shone in the light of the moon that came in through the windows.

Emma took it, hefting it in her hand. “So this is it, huh?”

He nodded. “That’s it. That’s how you’re gonna slay the beast.”

  
*****

They returned to the estate briefly to fill Henry and James in on what they had found. When they arrived, it was to see the two of them as well as Snow White, waiting for them in the dining room.

“There you are!” Henry leapt off his chair, seemingly back in his old spirits, and he launched himself at Emma’s midsection.

She caught him, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. We found what we needed.”

“You found the dagger?” Snow White asked, she and James rising and joining them in the foyer.

August nodded. “Yep. So now Emma can take him down.”

She raised her brows. “Me? I can’t do this by myself! I need you!”

He shook his head. “No you don’t. You’re the savior, remember?”

Henry looked up at her with a smile. “I know you can do it. But before you go...” He ran back to the dining room and grabbed a small jar off the table, bringing it to her. “You might need this.”

“What is it?” She asked, staring at the sparkling fuchsia liquid in the jar.

“I made it myself!” he announced proudly.

“But what is it?” She lifted her eyes to her parents, noting how her father seemed cautiously optimistic, while her mother... her mother just looked shocked.

Snow White glanced up at her, telling her softly, “We think it might be that... ‘true love’ potion that Rumplestiltskin released.”

Emma furrowed her brows, looking to her son. “Where did you find this?”

James shook his head. “He didn’t find it. He made it.”

Her stomach lurched. “How?” She turned the jar over in her hand, two strands of hair coiled around one another in the center.

He shrugged. “I just used a strand of your hair...”

With a meaningful, still shell-shocked look to her daughter, Snow finished, “The other strand was Regina’s.”

 

**TBC**


	26. Swan Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even she should have known that a savior couldn't save everyone.

*****

The fuchsia glow was almost mesmerizing. Not to mention the ebony and gold at its very center: Regina’s straight hair in the middle and her own long blonde strand curled around it in a gentle embrace. She nearly startled when the ground came up suddenly beneath her only to realize that she’d sat down in the midst of her shock. “It can’t be,” she murmured.

Her mother swallowed slowly, looking at the concoction with a mix of wonder and disdain crossing her features. “And yet it is,” she answered, voice low and somewhat grave.

Slowly, Emma turned her large eyes up to August, who was standing over her in the dining room. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, leather jacket still zipped tight as he gave her a closed-lip half-smile. As if promising he would save the inevitable ‘I told you so’ for a later day.

Then, she looked to each of her family members in turn, noting the spectrum of emotion displayed on each face. On Henry, there was barely-restrained glee. His smile was without the whiteness of his teeth, but no less excited, stretched wide across his elfin face. Then there was her father: understanding, and perhaps a glimmer of acceptance, though surreptitious glimpses were consistently cast toward his wife. And finally there was Snow White. The expression on her face was one fraught with tension; clearly, there was a war being waged inside of her -- between love for her daughter and disgust over the object of said-daughter’s affection being her longtime nemesis.

Finally the war within the newly-appointed queen seemed to come to a head, as her hand slapped down on the table and startled them all: “ _Why_ her!?”

Wide, angry eyes centered Emma in their sights and for the first time, she was intimidated by the petite woman. Emma leaned against the doorframe for support, wondering if in another world this would be the voice wielded by her mother when she was about to be grounded.

“Uh... I don’t--”

“Of all people...” Snow shook her head, plucking the vial from her hands and holding it up in front of her as she continued, “in all this world...” She huffed mirthlessly and corrected herself, “In _all_ of the worlds... it had to be her.” She rounded on her again. “Why, Emma?”

She was taken aback by the accusation in her tone. She couldn’t help but exhale a surprised, humorless laugh. “Like I _asked_ for this?”

August knocked Henry lightly on the shoulder, breaking in, “Hey champ, let’s go put your book away for safekeeping, huh?”

Henry was momentarily disappointed, sighing out a crestfallen, “Okay,” but he followed August up the stairs nonetheless. 

James glanced between his wife and daughter, and upon Emma’s nod, he nodded back and called after them, “Hey, I’ll come help. That, uh...” He averted his gaze and made his way toward the steps, muttering, “That book’s kinda heavy, after all.”

Emma scrambled to her feet, taking the vial of True Love from her mother’s hand, partly fearing for its safety. She narrowed her eyes, voice as low as she could go without whispering. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to get chucked into some magic tree trunk seconds after I was born... to have no clue who my parents were or why they abandoned me at first sight.”

Snow White ducked her head in shame but it didn’t deter Emma. “I didn’t ask for my kid to show up on my doorstep after ten years with a head full of fairy tales and his mind set on me being some... _savior_! I didn’t ask to _care_ about him and then having to share him with some bitch of a mayor!” 

She pocketed the potion and continued. “Just like I didn’t ask to actually _be_ some savior that has to break a curse! Or find out that my roommate and own best friend is actually _my mother_ , who -- oh, by the way -- _just happens to be the most famous fairytale princess!_ I didn’t ask to team up with an evil queen or make nice with her and I sure as hell didn’t ask to care about her like I do!”

She shook her head, advancing on her mother a few steps, who didn’t back down, though her expression did grow less and less severe as Emma hammered in her final point. “So don’t you stand there and ask me why this became what it is, like I wished on some stupid shooting star for it! I didn’t ask for _any_ of it. I still can’t make head or tail of what kind of life this is. All I know is that it’s _mine_ now. And I’m going to do everything I can to make damn sure I protect everyone in it. _Including_ Regina.”

Snow White took a breath. “Emma, look. I--”

She cut her off, still riding out the last waves of pent-up frustration as she continued, “Now you can either work with me, and help me get rid of Rumplestiltskin and Regina’s mother once and for all, or you can work against me and throw a fit, and your grandson will lose the only mother that’s been there for him unfailingly for the first ten years of his life. But you need to choose and you need to do it now.” She raised her eyebrows. “What’s it gonna be?”

Her mother moved and for a moment Emma readied herself for battle when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight hug. Her hands hung suspended in the air for a moment as her brows crawled skyward, wondering what was happening.

“I’m sorry,” Snow White whispered, arms tight around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Emma.”

The adrenaline drained from her somewhat and Emma allowed herself to relax, her hands resting on her mother’s back. “I’m sorry too.”

“I’m sorry that we ever had to be apart, and that you grew up thinking that we gave you away because we didn’t love you,” her voice broke with tears. 

Emma pressed her lips together, patting her mother’s back. “Well... at least I know the truth now, right?”

Snow sniffled and pulled away, nodding and wiping at her tears.

Emma shrugged, attempting humor as she added ruefully, “And I guess... since you’re the mom, you’re not supposed to like who I’m with.”

She chuckled tearfully, moving pieces of her daughter’s hair out of her eyes. “Right.”

They embraced again and Emma allowed herself to smile, thankful in a way that her mother had had her outburst. Now they could try to move toward acceptance. And she knew that no matter where the pieces fell in this chess match, Snow White would never be the best of friends with the ‘Evil Queen.’ But as long as there was understanding and acceptance -- or at the very least, tolerance -- it didn’t matter.

“Is it safe to come down yet?” 

Henry’s cajoling, lilting tone reached them from upstairs and they broke away from one another chuckling. Snow White wiped away the last vestiges of her tears as Emma called, “Yeah kid, nobody killed anyone. Come back down.”

“You guys were pretty quiet,” he told them as he bounded down the stairs back to the dining room. He made a face. “We were kinda worried.”

Emma grinned, ruffling his hair. “Just needed to get some stuff sorted out, that’s all.” She looked up at August, who gave her a smirk.

“Well, we’re glad you two worked things out,” James sighed, looping an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Time is of the essence, after all.”

Emma nodded, touching her pocket where the vial of potion was nestled. “Right. I gotta go.” Shaking her head to herself, she sighed, “Don’t know where exactly _to_ go, but I gotta get there.”

“Here.” Her mother’s voice stopped her, and she turned to see her removing a piece of jewelry before holding it out to her between her thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps this will help.”

Emma frowned, taking the gold ring from her mother and turning it over, inspecting the peridot-colored gem that glowed back at her ever so briefly. “What is it?”

“It was my mother’s,” James told her. “It was enchanted some time ago, and helped me track down my true love.” He squeezed Snow’s shoulder, who nodded, finishing the thought for him as she shrugged one shoulder.

“I just thought that maybe...” She met Emma’s eyes. “It could help you locate yours.”

Emma closed her fingers around the ring, feeling it warm her palm. She blinked her gratitude at her mother, who offered a small smile in return.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly.

August nudged her gently. “You ready?”

She took a breath and huffed it out. “I guess so!” Then, she looked to her parents. “What about you two?”

James shook his head. “Don’t worry about us.”

“Or me,” Henry chimed in.

The king smirked at his grandson, ruffling his hair the way Emma had done only moments ago. “We’ll look after the young prince.”

Snow nodded. “But just say the word when you need us and we’ll be right beside you.”

Henry beamed up at her. “If I learned one thing about this family, it’s that we always find each other.”

James clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “That we do, Henry. That we do.”

Emma nodded and, with a few quick hugs goodbye, she exited the estate with August following behind her. She heard his footsteps slow as she neared his motorcycle parked at the curb, and she spun to face him. “Well?”

He tossed her the key and smirked back, “Well what?”

She slipped the ring on her finger and watched the gem light up again. Holding up her hand, she asked him, “You don’t at least wanna see where this leads?”

With another smile, he ducked his head and shook it back and forth, his tone rueful as he told her, “That’s not my journey. It’s yours.”

She nodded her understanding, letting her hand fall to her side. She watched him approach, furrowing her brows as she wondered if he was sentimental enough to hug her as well, when he ducked at the last moment and opened the satchel hanging off the seat of his motorcycle. 

“Dagger’s still there,” he reported, buttoning it shut and standing up again. 

“Good.”

For a moment they stood looking at each other -- former foster kids, survivors of the Dark Curse, comrades... friends. Then, August gave her a wide grin. “So. Whaddya gonna do now, Princess?”

Emma smirked, sliding onto the seat of the motorcycle as she stuck the key in the ignition and shot back, “I’m gonna go get my Queen.”

He nodded, congratulating her, “‘Atta girl,” before she started up the bike and sped off.

As she raced through the streets of Storybrooke, she held the accelerator with one hand while holding up the other that housed the ring, paying attention to the glow and letting it act as her compass. She supposed she should have been surprised when it landed her at the library.

She headed on autopilot toward the tree-shaped mirror, and pressed her hand to it just as she’d seen Regina do twice. Her heart ached at the thought of her counterpart and it increased her determination accordingly. She strode with confidence toward the elevator and peered down into the broken remains of the elevator shaft and the shattered car at the bottom. Closing her eyes, Regina’s voice floated through her head: _“It will become second nature to you...”_ as she released her breath and then held up a hand, able to feel the burst of brilliant blue through her closed eyelids. 

When she opened them, the elevator car was reassembled, looking shiny as new and ready to be used. Her heart thudded in her chest, adrenaline bumping her pulse sky-high as she stepped on and waved her fingers again, starting her descent. The ride was smooth -- nothing at all like her first two trips down -- and she landed with less than a shudder from the car around her.

The doors slid open, as if of their own volition, and Emma stepped into Storybrooke’s underground tunnels, finding them completely empty. Ash blew around her and heat assaulted her face. She looked at the chasm that once held the body of the dragon she slew, now filled with lava. Where were they? Where was Regina?

She felt chilled, a stark contrast to the heat all around her. Unable to understand why she had grown so cold, she swept her gaze around the cavern. A gasp left her lips as it settled on a large block of ice in the far corner, big enough to hold a body -- though it was the body in particular that caused the gasp.

She raced over, “Regina?!” staring helplessly down at the frozen former queen.

She was still. Perfectly preserved. Her hands were folded primly over her stomach and her eyes were buttoned closed, as if she were sleeping. A sob escaped before Emma could stop it and she dropped to her knees beside the icy coffin.

“No...” she whispered, sweeping her hand across the side and wiping away some of the frost that obscured her view of the beauty beneath.

This was worse than watching that horrible witch tear her lover’s heart out through the mirror in the foyer. Worse than having her own heart torn asunder. This was several inches of pure ice holding Regina’s corpse captive. This was... finality. 

She swallowed, hard, barely able to see through the tears that filled her gaze and spilled onto her cheeks. She wiped at them with a flat hand, willing them to cease, but they wouldn’t. And soon the emotion itself had bubbled too close to the surface and she began to cry. Deep, grieving sobs echoed around the caverns and at the moment she could have cared less if Rumplestiltskin, Regina’s mother and all of their cronies came charging at her. It didn’t matter anymore. 

They had killed her, without any chance of a fair fight. And then left her body on display, probably for Emma to find, while they hid like cowards. And now Emma was left completely, utterly alone, with an overwhelming hollowness in her chest. She pressed her hand to her heart, hiccuping past a sob as she realized she could no longer feel Regina. The underlying warmth that made her certain she was still alive had been missing, she realized, since she and August had been looking for the dagger. 

She remembered the chill she had felt when they had been nearing the pawn shop, and damned herself for not realizing what the feeling was at the time. Now Regina was lost to her forever, no hope of salvaging her missing heart or her frozen form. 

_“You know I’m not gonna let you get killed, right?”_

_“You may not have a choice in the matter, I’m afraid.”_

She dissolved into tears once again. She had broken her promise. Regina had accepted her inevitable demise, but Emma had been stubborn, thinking she could save her. She was so stupid. Even she should have known that a savior couldn't save everyone.

She pressed her hand to the ice, her entire body slumping against the block. Resting her cheek atop of the icy coffin she closed her eyes, her breath puffing across the surface and kicking up clouds as she whispered to Regina’s ice-bound form, “I love you.”

And so deeply immersed in her grief was she that she didn’t notice the cloud from those three words, spreading all over the coffin. 

Nor did she feel the cracks that spread like vines across the ice.

 

TBC


	27. A Queen Most Powerful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimly, at the back of her mind she hoped that by keeping her eyes closed long enough, she could wake from the nightmare she’d obviously fallen into. Then she could go downstairs and find Regina sipping her coffee at the table, looking up at her through her lashes while Henry played with his cereal.

Emma’s sniffle bounced off the walls of the caverns, breaking the silence that had settled in for what felt like hours. For so long she knelt slumped against the coffin, eyes closed as she mourned the lost love she never really knew. Dimly, at the back of her mind she hoped that by keeping her eyes closed long enough, she could wake from the nightmare she’d obviously fallen into. Then she could go downstairs and find Regina sipping her coffee at the table, looking up at her through her lashes while Henry played with his cereal.

 _Henry_. What would she tell Henry? That while she’d been looking for some magic dagger, his adoptive mother was killed by a crazy man and a heart-ripping sorceress? Or maybe, _“Hey, you had ten good years with her. Pretty good run if you ask me.”_ It wasn’t good enough. The best excuse she could possibly conjure, whatever that may be, would never be good enough. 

Sighing, Emma shifted, shutting her eyes tighter as she let the back of her head hit the block of ice, not flinching as the cold bit into her. “I love you,” she whispered again, wishing Regina could hear her.

A small tinkle, like glass, was her only answer, followed by a barely-discernible tap against her boot. She opened her eyes and looked down, finding a shard of ice next to her on the ground, quickly melting against the heat from the surrounding lava. The sight was enough to shock Emma into turning around and, when she spotted the thin cracks in Regina’s icy tomb, she stumbled to her feet.

“What the hell?” she breathed, eyes wide as saucers.

Leaning over, she peered in through the thick ice, looking for any sign of movement just as Regina’s eyes burst open and focused immediately on her.

“Regina!”

The tears sprung forth once again, streaming in rivulets down each cheek, though these were tears of relief. She watched Regina’s mouth open and bubbles emerge. Her fist pounded on the ice that held her captive and Emma leapt into action.

“Hang on!” she shouted. “I’m gonna get you out!”

Without waiting for a response from Regina -- she wasn’t sure she could hear her, after all -- Emma clasped her hands together as a brace and slammed herself elbow-first into the ice. The ice didn’t budge. She stared in shock at the complete absence of a dent, a nick, a scratch, _anything_ from the impact of her elbow.

“What the hell....” she repeated, this one a low whisper.

She tried again, this time with the toe of her boot. Cursing loudly, she stumbled back and grabbed her throbbing foot. The ice had done damage to it rather than the other way around. Then, she began to just pound madly on the icy surface, frantic to make any sort of an impact. She watched as Regina struggled as well, bubbles cascading from her nostrils and her lips as her fists pounded from beneath. All to no avail.

Emma slumped, exhausted, against the coffin and stared forlornly down at Regina as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

Regina pounded a few more times, and Emma thought she had mouthed her name, but she couldn’t be sure. 

“I know! I know. It’s not budging, but I’m going to figure it out. Okay?” She nodded, raising her brows. “I won’t let you die.” More quietly, she finished, “I love you.”

A loud crack startled her and she jumped, finding a deeper split making its way across the coffin. She remembered the last time she’d said those words and the small piece of ice that had hit her boot. And she whipped her head up with realization, staring through the ice and water into Regina’s brown eyes.

“That’s it,” she murmured. “ _I love you_.”

A large corner chunk of the tomb cracked off and hit the ground, melting almost instantly. Emma watched it briefly before turning her eyes back to her counterpart, letting the emotion push away any lingering doubt and instead take her over. “You aggravate the hell out of me, and the last thing I wanted was to feel this way.” 

She let the feeling fill her until she thought it would come bursting out of her eyes. “But you’re in my veins and in my heart and I don’t care how it happened, you’re in there and you won’t come out. And I don’t _want_ to get you out. You’re there in every inch of me, every last annoying bit of you and I want you there, always.”

From beneath the ice and the water, Regina burst into a wide, heart-stopping smile, as if knowing what was coming, and Emma chuckled through her tears as she finished, “I can’t help it. _I love you, Regina_.”

With one last long series of cracks, the tomb shattered in a brilliant icy burst, and Emma shielded herself as icicles of varying sizes grazed past her. They floated past her slowly, fanning out until every piece orbited around them in swirling loops and tendrils - icy star matter, encircling them. 

Regina pulled herself up, surfacing with a bursting gasp of air. Her hands clutched desperately at the remnants of the tomb at her sides, as if fearing she’d slip under again, and Emma raced to her side. She let her hands fall to her hair -- the thick, dark hair she’d always envied and now adored -- and then to her skin. She nearly startled with surprise at how cold Regina was. The water lapped around her waist and her legs were still submerged, but every bit of her above the water was inexplicably dry, including her clothing.

Regina’s chest heaved as she took in loud gulps of air, and Emma continued stroking her hair and face soothingly -- though whether it was to soothe Regina or herself, she wasn’t sure. Finally, she seemed to catch her breath, and Emma found herself awarded with a smile so bright she idly wondered if it was a plot to steal all of _her_ breath.

Regina cupped her face, ice-cold fingers sliding along her cheek. “I love you too,” she exhaled.

Emma breathed out a smile of her own, a teary chuckle escaping before she wrapped her arms around Regina’s back and held her tightly, closing her eyes. She felt Regina’s arms tighten around her neck and shoulders, and for the longest moment they simply breathed together, hearts in tandem. 

Gently, she pulled Regina from the remains of the tomb, helping her slide carefully over the ice and then bracing her as she found her footing, each of them clasping each other’s arms. 

Emma’s eyes followed the movement of her counterpart’s lips, pursing and blowing a puff of air at the thin slices of hair obscuring her right eye. “Where’s your mother?” she asked, heart still thundering with adrenaline as she tucked the pesky piece of hair behind Regina’s ear. “And Rumplestiltskin and the others?”

“I don’t know,” Regina breathed, legs unsteady as she took a first few steps, and Emma gripped her hand tightly. “Everything went dark when they sealed me in the ice.” Her head lifted slowly and their eyes met. “The next thing I heard was your voice.”

Emma swallowed, smiling just slightly at the feeling of warmth that hit her at that comment, before drawing herself back to their present situation. “Well if they know that I just busted you out, they can’t be that far behind us. Let’s go.”

“No. Wait.” Regina stopped her with a swift tug, nearly crushing her hand with desperation, eyes alight with fear and trepidation. “You have to be careful around me.”

Emma furrowed her brows. “What are you talking about?”

“My heart, Emma. Rumplestiltskin has my heart.”

“Yeah I know,” she huffed, raising her eyebrows ruefully. “I watched him yank it from your chest.” Off of Regina’s questioning glance, she replied, “The mirror.”

“Well then you must know that when you take a heart, you control its owner.” She shook her head. “It’s not safe for you to listen to anything I say. As soon as they discover that I’m awake and that you’ve come to rescue me, there’s no telling what they’ll do to me.” Quieter, she added, “Or what they’ll have me do to you.”

Emma allowed herself a moment to cup Regina’s face, to slide her thumb over the softness of her cheek. She thought of everything she’d seen Regina do - the wicked, backhanded plays in their initial power struggle. She thought of the things she’d read in Henry’s book, of what she had done to other people -- the body count she had attacked her with in their argument. And then she thought of every moment she’d spent with Regina since the curse broke. And she told her, “I’m not worried.”

“Why not?”

“Because I trust you. And...” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the vial she’d toted with her and held it up. “Because we’ve got this.”

Regina stared at it in wonder, plucking it from her fingers. “Is that...”

“True love,” Emma nodded.

Looking up at her, Regina asked, “You made a new potion? From your parents’ hair?”

She shook her head. “Henry made that.” Holding Regina’s gaze, she finished, “From _our_ hair.”

“It can’t be...”

She smirked. “I’m as annoyed about it as you are.”

Regina turned the vial over in her hand, watching it glow. Slowly, she shook her head, her countenance almost remorseful. “I can’t use this.”

“What? Why not?”

“They drained me.” She met her eyes, sorrow filling the deep brown irides. “I’m powerless, I can’t use magic.”

Emma dipped her head. “God, they really put you through the wringer, didn’t they?”

“They have a lot to be upset about. And,” she shrugged, throwing another glimpse down at the vial of True Love, “I never expected to live through this anyway. The curse was my last chance at happiness. I didn’t know Henry was going to come along.” Holding her gaze, she added, “I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with you.”

Emma sighed, reaching for her hand. She squeezed it briefly, then turned it over in her own. She allowed herself a moment to caress Regina’s palm, tracing the lines as carefully as if she were trying to read her future. Then, she closed her eyes, painlessly slicing the skin of Regina’s hand. Regina startled at the sight but didn’t move, trusting her implicitly. Emma wordlessly gashed her own hand and held it up. 

“One last time,” she said. “If they’re coming for us... if we’re both going down in this fight... you deserve a chance to fight back.”

Regina nodded, pressing her palm to Emma’s and lacing their fingers tight, just as she had the first time. Their eyes met. Emma felt a surge of heat and her head snapped back, images assailing her -- some of which she’d seen before.

There was the melting sword, and she and Regina shielding one another. Arrows flying and screams piercing the air and then Regina leaning down, a gentle smile on her lips as she kissed a small hairless head, murmuring, “I love you.” There was laughter and happiness, and hugs from Henry, followed by she and Regina clasping hands, smiling at one another.

Emma gasped as she came out of it, finding that she and Regina had been blasted apart one more time. They clamored for one another, grabbing each other’s arms and holding on tight. Regina stared into her eyes, her own wide. “You saw...”

Emma shook her head. “No time for that,” she told her, pulling her along, “we gotta find your heart.”

“They buried it.” Regina tugged on her hand again, halting her. Off Emma’s shocked look, she looked around the caverns. “He embedded it deep in the rock somewhere down here. I have no idea how to even begin to locate it, even _with_ magic.”

Emma huffed, stuffing her hands through her curls agitatedly and looking down at the ground. As her eyes traveled, they settled on the vial of fuchsia, still dangling between Regina’s fingertips. She paused, cocking her head and murmuring thoughtfully, “I think I do...”

Regina followed her gaze, holding up the vial. “I’ve never used this before. Never possessed it. What do I--”

“Drink it,” Emma told her instinctively. “That kind of magic is only created when two hearts find each other, right?”

“Yes.”

“So let’s get your heart to find _us_.”

A soft pop and Regina had the cap off, holding the vial to her mouth. Looking to Emma, she quirked a brow, a bit of that ‘evil queen’ sly smirk hitting her lips. “And if we need this later?”

Emma smirked right back at her. “It’s you and me, Regina. We’ll figure it out.”

Regina gave a small smile, reaching for Emma’s hand. Squeezing it in her own, Emma watched as she upended the vial, gulping the fuchsia concoction down straight. She coughed and spluttered briefly, a hand fluttering to her chest as if she’d just had a particularly strong gulp of liquor.

“It’s strong,” she sputtered around the cough.

Emma raised her brows, commenting, “Most powerful magic there is, Regina. Didn’t think it was gonna taste like bubblegum, did you?”

Regina shot her a glare, though it remained for only a split-second before the ground began to shake beneath them and a more startled expression commandeered her features. 

They reached for one another again, hearing a high-pitched cackle from somewhere deep in the caverns.

“Watch out!”

Before she could react, Regina shoved her down onto the ground, shielding her body with her own as something went whizzing past their heads. Her eyes followed the trajectory to find a piece of jagged rock slamming into the smooth stone wall on the other side of the cavern. 

“What the hell was that?” she breathed as they helped one another to their feet.

Regina looked over her shoulder, toward where the rock originated, and gave a tug on her companion’s hand. “Emma...”

She turned, following Regina’s gaze, her eyes widening slightly as a small ornate box emerged from the hole in the rock, floating toward them. They watched, hands linked loosely... the pads of their fingers still exchanging energy. When it reached them, the box slowly opened with a soft creak of its hinges, revealing a red glow inside. 

Emma stared at it in shock. “Is that...”

Regina nodded, finishing the thought. “My heart.”

This time, a low growl bounced off the cavern walls, and the two of them whipped their heads in every direction, looking for the source. “We gotta get out of here,” Emma murmured, grabbing the box from mid-air and slamming it shut, hugging it to her body as she and Regina took off. “Come on!”

The ground shook beneath them again, almost angrily, and they ducked into a small, dark alcove near the elevator shaft. “In here, quick,” Emma whispered, pushing Regina in before she climbed in behind her. 

She could barely see even inches in front of her face, and she blindly reached her hand out for Regina. “What do we do?” she whispered.

“You need to put my heart back where it belongs,” Regina murmured, “and you need to do it quickly.”

“What?” She glanced in Regina’s direction though she couldn’t see her, still holding the box to her chest. “Are you insane? I have no idea how to do that! _You_ took a few hearts in your heyday, why can’t you do it?”

“You can’t replace your own heart. Besides... of all the hearts I’ve taken, never have I given one back.”

Emma cursed under her breath. “Regina...”

“Emma, we don’t have much time. _Please_.”

Sighing, Emma opened the box, the red glow of Regina’s heart filling the alcove. She looked up and met Regina’s eyes, taken in by the soft smile she saw on her face. 

“That heart belongs to you anyway, my dear,” Regina told her, her tone low and silky. “It should be you.”

Letting out her breath, Emma nodded quickly -- nervously -- and reached a shaking hand inside the velvet-lined box. “I have no idea what I’m doing...”

“It’s okay,” Regina soothed her, grasping the hand that held her heart and directing it to her chest. “I trust you.” Ducking her head to capture her gaze, she added, “I love you.”

Emma’s own heart seized up in her throat. Swallowing hard, she whispered shakily, “I love you too,” and then screwed her courage and her eyes shut, as she plunged her hand inside Regina’s chest.

Regina gasped, body tensing, and Emma released her grip on the heart as she opened her eyes, pulling her hand back with a white burst. Almost immediately, she pressed her hand to Regina’s chest, feeling for any sort of open wound or scar. What she found instead was soft, unmarred skin. And when her hand pressed more tightly against that skin, she felt the strong, steady beating beneath.

They breathed out their relief in unison and Emma dipped her head. Regina’s hand skirted along her jawline and she lifted it once more, sighing happily when she was met with warm lips. The kiss was brief, however, as the ground beneath them began to rumble once more, and a great beastly shriek split the stale air.

They broke apart, twin expressions of alarm firmly in place. “They’re coming,” Emma murmured. 

“I can’t tell from where, though,” Regina whispered, the two of them still clinging together in the tiny alcove.

“Come out come out wherever you are, _dearies_....” Rumplestiltskin’s echo bounced off every wall.

Emma met Regina’s eyes. “What do we do?”

She watched, slightly in awe, as Regina slowly became the embodiment of the queen she once was. Her spine straightened gradually, almost vertebrae by vertebrae. Her chin lifted, and the spark of panic in her brown eyes turned to one of determination. She answered Emma, “Exactly what they want us to do: step out and fight.”

And in that low, determined statement, Emma found her courage, her bearings. Here was Regina, a queen defeated and left powerless in so many ways -- curse thwarted by love, plans for domination overthrown by a power-hungry imp, bruised and beaten and tortured, left for dead within an icy tomb -- and yet her willpower, her determination to overcome and to be strong for her son, never wavered. 

So Emma straightened up accordingly and closed her eyes a moment, envisioning her father’s sword. She had the dagger of course, but that had one use and one use only -- bringing an end to Rumplestiltskin. And before that moment arrived, she and Regina would have to fight for their lives -- fight for a life together, with their son. She would fight like hell for that. 

In moments, the blade of Prince James was in her hands and Regina was looking to her with an impressed, raised-brow expression.

She hefted the sword in her hand, nodding to Regina. “I’ll go first.”

Glancing surreptitiously around the corner, Emma stepped out of the alcove. The ground was still rumbling in places and that high-pitched wail of a beast -- Maleficent, most likely -- continued to echo, but she forged ahead, sword held in front of her. She listened as Regina stepped out behind her, sidling close. Their eyes and heads darted in different directions, each of them following a different sound. 

Flames suddenly fanned out from atop one of the high stone walls -- a veritable cliff in the underground catacombs. And there was Maleficent in her more intimidating form, large scaly tail flapping, its spines breaking stone off the cliffs and sending them tumbling into the lava that filled the mines.

“Alright, Rumple!” Emma called, raising the sword. “You’ve got us where you want us, now quit hiding behind Regina’s mom and step out and fight.”

“What was that, dearie?” With a poof, he appeared, and Emma startled briefly.

The golden scales, that she’d spotted on his hands and wrists in the pawn shop, now covered him completely. His eyes, that were previously dark and calculatingly cold, now glittered in a bright golden color. His hair fell in rigid waves and he looked, well... downright reptilian. 

“Was that a thinly-veiled jab at my masculinity? Perhaps a way to goad me out of hiding so we could duel?” His voice was high and jovial, no trace of humor in the giggle that escaped. “How droll! Well, Princess Emma... ask and you shall receive.” He dipped into a low bow, and Emma wished more than anything to impale him with that dagger then and there.

“But first things first!” He held up a finger as he snapped upward, practically dancing backward. “I must applaud you in your success, extracting our dear monarch! Cora is quite displeased, it’s marvelous.”

“Where is she?” Emma seethed. 

Another giggle, and then, “What? Anxious to meet mummy-in-law? Get her blessing before you two ride off into the sunset?” Off their glares, he grinned. “Oh please. I believe we all saw _that_ little twist coming a mile away.”

Spinning away with a flourish, he took a few steps as he continued his taunting. “It makes quite the story, you know. A powerful queen scorned, cursing her mortal enemy to a life without her true love. A princess, borne of that true love and carried to term by the mortal enemy, growing to be a valiant and brave white knight. Extraordinary circumstances draw the two protagonists together and for a time they, too, are mortal enemies -- the queen and the white knight.”

Emma and Regina remained shoulder-to-shoulder, their narrowed eyes continuing to follow Rumplestiltskin as he spun back to face them swiftly, pointing at them.

“But then! A crisis. Flames licking the walls, a spot of danger afoot and the white knight saves the queen.” He bounced jauntily. “Pulls her from the ash and the flames and something shifts in that queen. The rivalry gets a little more tenuous. The queen realizes she doesn’t mind having the knight around... just in case.”

Emma and Regina side-eyed one another before turning their gaze back to the imp as he circled them slowly, happily weaving his tale. “Another crisis and it’s this time that the knight and the queen must band together as one for a common goal. Perhaps they realize that they’re not so different from one another. Perhaps they even feel a glimmer of gratitude that the other is there. They begin to _care_ for one another, and soon the queen realizes she _needs_ the knight. So they battle and fall together and grow to love one another, each of them dreaming of a happy ending.” 

With a little grin, he leaned toward them and added, “ _That_ , my dearies, is where I come in. You see it’s all the standard fairytale fodder, until this moment in time. When I write your ending for you. And this tale, my dears, is of the unconventional sort. For there is no happy ending... no true love.”

She and Regina exchanged one more glance; she saw the plan written in her eyes and the curl of her lips. Sable locks flew as Regina turned to Rumplestiltskin, raised one perfectly-groomed brow and said lowly, “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

Then everything went dark. A deep violet fog blocked out everything -- the light from the lava, the occasional glimmer of a diamond embedded deep in the mines. It obscured everything, as both of them took off in opposite directions, gliding fast without touching the ground and leaving a trail of smoke in their wake.

The dragon screeched shrilly as Rumplestiltskin roared his fury, rumbling the ground as Emma landed lightly on top of the cavern walls. Her first instinct was to search out Regina, but this time she knew she had to push the instinct away. Regina could, and would, hold her own in this fight. 

She flicked her wrist, letting go of the hilt of the sword ever so briefly and sending it spinning before grasping it once again, feeling the weight and balance of it in her hand. Sharply, she looked up as flames parted the violet smoke, and a gigantic reptilian head seemed to grin at her. 

“You and me again, huh Maleficent? Didn’t work out too well for you the last time.”

The dragon breathed fire that skirted just above her head, and Emma ducked, brandishing the sword. Before either of them could make a further advance, Emma was airborne, crying out her surprise as she fell from the wall and slid, several yards, across the ground.

“Emma!” she heard Regina calling after her.

Pushing herself up on her elbows, she grappled for the sword as Regina’s mother strode toward her slowly, her long gown swishing with every step.

She stopped right at Emma’s toes, giving her a slow-curling smile as she said, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, I’d say you’re right on time, dear Cora,” Rumplestiltskin greeted her. “Been busy, have we?”

“Mm.” Cora nodded, eyes still trained on Emma as she answered. “The realms are very nearly pushed together. The curse is practically complete.”

“Curse...” Emma pushed herself up further, hearing Regina rush up behind her to help. Her bones ached from the fall and her skin was stinging from the swift slide across the rock.

Regina braced her, the two of them facing Cora and Rumple warily. “You’re enacting a new curse, Mother.” It wasn’t as much a question as it was a statement.

“Was there any doubt that I would?” she smiled. “You failed so miserably at the last one, I felt it was my motherly duty to show you how to cast one properly.” She smiled at Rumplestiltskin. “No saviors. No loopholes.” Then, to Regina and Emma, she sneered derisively. “No ‘true love’s kiss.’”

With a sigh, Cora turned, skirt sweeping the dust on the ground as she moved. “No, with this curse there will be no happiness of any sort. Every heart in Storybrooke, every heart in the magical realms, will be in constant turmoil. They’ll be in our hands,” she looked to Rumple.

Regina and Emma glimpsed at him quickly, both spotting the murderous expression to cross his features behind Cora’s back. Emma recalled their conversation in the pawn shop and wondered just why on Earth he would ever consent to sharing power.

Cora continued on, not noticing. “Every heart will be under our command.”

“So we’ll be your puppets,” Emma surmised, eyes still flitting to Rumplestiltskin every so often while he stared Cora down unnoticed.

“Exactly, dear.” Cora smiled, tilting her head. “Lost souls, in need of direction.”

“You’ve forgotten the best part,” Rumple uttered beside her.

“Ah, yes. The memories.”

“We won’t remember who we are,” Regina guessed.

“More than misplacing a fairytale identity, my dear,” her mother told her. “You won’t remember a thing. Not a thing. Not a name, an age, an inkling as to who you were, are or might someday be.” She glanced to Emma. “All of you, one collective blank slate, wiped clean again at the start of every passing day. Empty rooms, for us to fill with our every whim.” She held up a finger to make a point. “More than puppets, you see. More like...” She feigned thought, wrist twirling in the air as if searching for the right word, before that vacant smile was turned on Emma once again, “An army.”

“First things first, Cora!” a voice rang out.

She and Rumple turned, and Emma and Regina leaned to the side to see Snow White atop the underground cliffs holding a bow and arrow, aimed right at them. Behind her was James, wielding a new sword, Ruby and Granny, Mother Superior, and a host of other faces Emma had seen around Storybrooke but couldn’t place in the fairytale realm.

The new queen cocked an almost smug smile as she fixed her aim on Cora and said, “You’ve gotta get through _my_ army first,” before she let the arrow fly.

“Move!” Regina shoved her and they rolled out of the way, just in time to look up and see Cora grab the arrow from mid-air, turning it to smoke.

“Oh, Snow,” she sighed, sounding almost disappointed. “Sweet Snow.” She tilted her head once more. “I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that.” And with that, she extended both hands and splayed her fingers, blasting off the chunk of rock where they all stood.

Their screams rang out and Emma yelled for her mother in terror, watching as Regina leapt to her feet and sprang into action. She countered her mother’s blast with one of her own -- though this created a violet bubble around the citizens of Storybrooke. She strained visibly, chest heaving with adrenaline, as the bubble slowly lifted them back up where they had been, and mended the break in the rock.

Then they were left with a mere moment... in which Snow stared at Regina in shock and Regina stared breathlessly right back, some sort of understanding exchanged... before Regina was knocked to the ground by a violent burst from Cora.

“You miserable _fool_ of a child!” she hissed, towering over her.

And that was when everything descended into chaos. 

A series of shouts and yells exploded from the tops of the cliffs as everyone rose to fight. Emma lunged at Cora and tackled her to the ground, pulling out the weapons she knew how to use best: her fists.

Regina scrambled out of the way and went after Rumplestiltskin. As she reached him, he smiled, giving a flutter of a wave before disappearing into thin air, leaving her scrambling to see where he had gone. 

James and some of the other men took on Maleficent as she roared and spewed fire, while Snow and Granny sent arrows raining down toward Cora. 

Emma was cast to the side, deemed an afterthought, and each of the arrows were effortlessly blocked -- some turning to ash and smoke, others raining down as flower petals, while others still were sent right back at the archers.

“Duck!” Emma screamed up toward them and they obeyed, dipping behind some of the taller rocks. 

She turned toward Maleficent, watching her father brandishing his sword while some of the other men -- she recognized one of them as Leroy -- pelted the dragon with rocks.

Spinning again, her eyes searched out Regina amid all the chaos and blue met brown. Everything slowed, for just a moment, and Emma found her center. But it was ripped away from her far too quickly when someone came up behind Regina, grabbed her with a hand around her throat, just under her chin and hissed, “You didn’t forget about me, did you?”

Jefferson.

Without thought, Emma dove for him, her hand extended and engulfing Regina with a puff of white smoke, sliding her out of the way. The back of Jefferson’s head hit the ground with a hard smack and she was on top of him, pummeling him with her fists. 

“Do you think you even stand a chance against the two of us?” she shouted, raining her fury down upon him. 

“She’s powerless, she’s got nothing.”

“Wrong. She’s got _me_ ,” and one more punch landed him unconscious.

“Emma...”

Regina beckoned her gaze and she turned, the two of them reaching for one another and hanging on for support as their attention simultaneously drifted to Cora. Now there was a wolf bearing down on her with Snow and Granny following after -- it had to be Ruby. 

But with one flick of the wrist, Cora sent the wolf flying into a nearby alcove. She dealt with Jefferson with her other hand, vanishing him into thin air -- possibly banishing him once more to Wonderland. Another flick of the wrist conjured a wrought iron gate that trapped Ruby in the alcove, before her attention went back to Snow and Granny. 

“Mother!” Regina shouted, she and Emma still bracing one another.

Cora spun, silently, and met her daughter’s eyes expectantly.

Gently untangling their clasped hands, Regina stepped in front of Emma and said, “You and I aren’t quite finished. Before you start with them, you’d best deal with me.”

Emma watched as a slow, calculating smile bit its way across the elder Mills’ mouth. “You’re right, darling,” she cooed, her tone icier than the block within which she’d entombed her daughter. “I need hearts to cast the curse, so let’s begin again with yours.”

Emma’s eyes widened, and she met her mother’s alarmed gaze, the two of them rooted to the spot as Cora advanced on Regina.

“Did you and your princess really think that you could just put your heart back and I wouldn’t go after it again?”

Behind Cora’s back, Emma slowly edged closer. When Snow White made a short move toward her in her periphery, Emma stopped her with a calm hand that told her she had a plan.

Regina and Cora remained locked on one another, Cora circling her daughter predatorily. “After all these years emulating me and following in my footsteps, it turns out you’re just like your father. A simple fool.” Lowering her gaze, she stared her daughter down through her lashes. “Now for the last time, Regina... what did I tell you about love?”

When she saw Cora lunge, Emma moved without thinking, her magic taking her there quicker than a blink. Regina was swept out of the way by a blue surge of magic and Emma took her place, eyes widening and her lips choking on a gasp as she felt Cora’s hand plunge inside her chest.

“NO! EMMA!” Regina screamed, starting toward her.

Snow, without taking her eyes off her daughter, wrapped her arms around Regina’s shoulders, restraining her instinctively, trusting in Emma’s unspoken plan. 

“Emma!” James yelled in anguish from up above, tossing his sword straight into the dragon and ending that fight. 

Maleficent’s high-pitched roars of pain pierced every set of ears, but the sound was ultimately ignored as Cora and Emma became the centerpiece of the battle. James, Leroy and the others ran down to join them, everyone standing with bated breath, each as uncertain as the next as to whether or not they should intervene. None even dared to flinch when ash rained down on them, Maleficent’s defeated dragon form drifting all around.

Cora chuckled, and Emma felt her wiggle her fingers inside her chest, each digit closing around the fragile organ. 

“Oh, you stupid, stupid girl,” Cora shook her head, pity dripping from her tone as she gave her heart a light squeeze.

Emma’s breath hitched, her chest spasming briefly with the motion.

She heard Regina begin to cry behind her while Snow kept her braced, her name sliding from her lips. “Emma...”

“Will you and my daughter never learn? Love is _weakness_.” And she tugged.

Emma jerked, preparing for the sight of her heart glowing in the older woman’s hand. But it didn’t come. Cora’s satisfied, maniacal grin soon turned to a frown of confusion. She tugged again. The heart didn’t budge.

And Emma lifted her head with realization. “No,” she breathed, adrenaline still somewhere in the stratosphere. “Love isn’t weakness. It’s strength.”

Then, as if from nowhere, a pure white pulse shuddered out of Emma -- out of her heart, her body, her very being. It shuddered out so quickly and so powerfully that Cora was thrown off, quite literally. The pure pulse of light blew her back so far and so quick, she was barely able to stop herself from falling head-first into the lava that filled the chasm beneath them.

The entirety of their crew stood in limbo, a war waging in each of them -- whether or not to extend a kindness and help the woman so hellbent on their destruction before she plummeted to her death.

Emma stared at the two bony hands clutching the ground for dear life, as footsteps hurried toward her. She felt a warm body collide behind her, gripping each of her arms gently, but she couldn’t react as she stood frozen in shock.

“What the hell just happened?” she breathed, her mind’s eye replaying the white pulse.

Releasing her gentle grip on her arms and stepping up beside her, peering into the lava-filled chasm, Regina told her, “She couldn’t take your heart.”

Before Emma could even wrap her mind around the more prevalent question - the why - a puff of smoke appeared between them and the others, Rumplestiltskin materializing once again.

His eyes scanned them all before he spun on the heel of his boot, footsteps echoing as he slowly sauntered up to the edge of the rock, peering down at Cora who still struggled to hold on. Crouching on his haunches, he addressed her. “Well well well. Looks like we’ve gotten ourselves into a bit of a quandary, haven’t we?”

“Rumple...” Cora strained. “It’s the girl - the savior. Her heart, I couldn’t--”

“I know,” he cut her off, each of the two syllables seeping out amidst a slow, knowing grin.

Emma met Regina’s eyes, clasping her hand tightly, directing her back toward the others while keeping a watchful eye on Rumplestiltskin.

Emma glanced at the interaction taking place, glanced at Rumplestiltskin’s hand as it moved to grasp Cora’s, to help her. Then she looked to her father. “The dagger,” she stated plainly.

James nodded. “I grabbed it off the bike before we came down here.” He handed her the leather satchel.

Regina’s eyes widened. “Is that...”

“Yes.”

She clamped a hand over Emma’s wrist, her coffee-brown eyes still round with panic. “If he knows it’s here--”

“He won’t,” Emma promised. “We’ll hide it.”

Mother Superior, who until that point had helped them fight without protest, now stepped forward and spoke up. “I would advise against the use of that dagger, Princess Emma. Anyone who possesses it, and uses it to kill the Dark One, becomes themselves the Dark One.”

“I can handle it,” she breathed. “If I can survive a heart-ripping, I can probably survive a little dark magic.” Leaning on tiptoe, she stowed the satchel away behind some of the stones, looking to Regina, who nodded her assent.

The fairy-turned-nun did not look pleased, standing there with lips pursed tightly, but she voiced no further protests. Instead, she said quietly, “I will gather the fairies. We must work on pushing the realms apart before Rumplestiltskin tries anything else.” And with that, she vanished.

James gave a nod to Leroy and some of the others, who nodded their understanding of his unspoken command and made their way out, stealthily avoiding attracting the maniacal imp’s attention.

“What about Cora?” Snow asked, and all eyes turned to the interaction taking place at the edge of the lava pit.

Emma kept her eyes on Rumplestiltskin’s back, murmuring, “I don’t think we’ll need to worry about her much longer.”

Rumplestiltskin leaned down with a grin, hand still gripping Cora’s. 

“You knew...” Cora hissed, angered. “How--”

“She’s a product of true love, of course!” A high-pitched, delighted giggle escaped. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

“We need her heart! What about our plan?”

“Not so fast, dearie. That was _your_ plan.” He lifted her by the wrist so they were eye to eye. “I have one of my own, and sadly, it doesn’t involve _you_.”

The last word was a tortuous whisper, barely heard above the din of the bubbling lava. And with that last little syllable, Rumplestiltskin released Cora’s wrist and let her fall, her screams filling the mines.

Emma’s heart lurched, her hand reaching for Regina’s as she heard her gasp. Cora may have been a complete sociopath that ruined Regina’s life and made her into a monster, but she knew that there was a deep-seeded love still in Regina, somewhere. She was her mother. 

Rumplestiltskin hopped up, jauntily wiping his hands as if he had just finished doing the dishes. “Now, dearies! Where were we?” Feigning thought, he pressed a jagged black fingernail to his lips, then held it up in faux realization. “Ah yes! _Run_.”

It was then that the mines seemed to roar to life. The ground rumbled beneath them, throwing several of them off-kilter. The wolf howled before its form spun and shifted back into Ruby. She gripped the wrought-iron bars, yelling to Snow and James. “What do we do?”

Rumplestiltskin giggled, blasting large chunks of rock off the cliffs and sending them tumbling down. Lava splashed up around each one, some of it landing dangerously close to where they stood huddled together.

Regina held up a hand, purple smoke erasing the gate that held Ruby captive, her eyes on she and Granny. “You’ll do precisely what he told you to do. You’ll run.”

With a nod, the two of them took off, leaving just Snow, James, Emma and Regina behind to fight Rumplestiltskin.

“Now why did you have to send them away? The more the merrier!”

“It’s four against one, Rumple,” Regina told him, taking the helm of their haphazard crew. “Surrender and we’ll be merciful.”

He giggled once more, conjuring a chair from nowhere and sitting down at the edge of the seat. His hands templed together, fingertips drumming against one another. “Is that the beginning of a deal that I hear?”

Emma cocked her head. “I thought you were ‘fresh out’ of new deals.”

“Make your case and perhaps I will make an exception.”

Snow White stepped forward, a queenly confidence in her step as she approached where he sat. “You surrender to us... abide by your inevitable sentencing and imprisonment... and we will let you live. That’s the deal.”

“Ah. And I’ve grown bored,” he sighed, leaping to his feet and making the chair disappear with a snap of his fingers. “Threats against my life hold no ground I’m afraid, your Majesties. For there’s only one way to rid yourselves of me.”

Emma folded her arms, a smug smile playing about her lips as she told him teasingly, “Oh, we know.” 

He paused, looking to each of them. The implication in Emma’s tone had been clear, and it had the desired affect on him. “Where is it,” he said lowly. Not a question, a demand.

“Are you ready to make a deal?” James asked of him.

“ _Where_... is it,” he tried again.

Emma shrugged, continuing to toy with him. “I dunno, it’s probably _somewhere_ down here...”

He shook visibly, seeming to explode in his anger as he roared, “WHERE IS IT!” The sheer fury pouring from him knocked a few more chunks of rock off the cliff and into the lava. “IT BELONGS TO _ME_. TELL ME WHERE IT IS.”

Snow White shook her head, holding her ground. “Surrender and we’ll lead you right to it.”

“NO. DEAL.” And he sent her flying.

“Snow!” James yelled.

She landed hard against the rock high above the lava, the stone capturing her wrists in an unbreakable grip. “Charming!”

He was next, landing stomach-first against the cliff directly beside his wife, both arms and legs trapped by the stone. He struggled to break free, to no avail.

She and Regina sent blast after blast -- blue and purple alternating -- as they tried to break her parents free. The rock didn’t move, didn’t so much as crack.

“You let them go,” Emma growled, spinning on her heel and advancing on Rumplestiltskin. “If you ever wanna see that stupid dagger again, you’ll let them go.”

“Or what, dearie? You’ll stomp your feet? Toss some silly blue lightning at me? _No._ ” On the ‘no,’ he knocked her to the ground and pulsed his fingers, sliding her abruptly to the edge of the lava pit.

“EMMA!” Regina screamed.

Emma scrambled to stop herself, her hair dangling over the edge. She fought against Rumplestiltskin’s magical grip, exerting nearly all her energy only to push herself onto her elbows.

“You think you can toy with me? Tease me and try to sucker a white flag out of me?” 

That menacing grin of decaying teeth neared. Emma found herself inches away from his gleaming gold eyes, chest heaving with adrenaline and fear.

“Now I will ask you one last time, dearie. And this answer is for the whole pot -- mummy, daddy, your _true love_.” He leaned close, voice low. “Where... is... my... dagg--” 

And the last syllable emerged as a strangled groan. Emma watched his eyes go wide for a split second before his forehead creased in pain. She felt his invisible grip on her disappear entirely and she scooted away, eyes wide as saucers, as blackened blood trickled from his mouth.

She had clamored to her feet just in time to see him tipping forward, to see him land on his face, the dagger he so intensely sought now protruding from his back.

And over him stood her savior -- Regina -- her mouth set in a frown of indifference as she answered him nonchalantly, “Here it is.”

The stone holding her parents hostage began to crumble. They floated gently to the ground as if supported by invisible parachutes, and ran to Emma’s side, the four of them standing over Rumplestiltskin.

He made a few wet gurgling sounds at the back of his throat and then went still. Regina leaned down to him and Emma watched her closely. “Is he...”

Her nod answered the question before her lips did.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

Emma glanced to her parents, the two of them clinging to one another and reaching out to their daughter in unison -- Snow’s hand touching the curve of her hair while James clasped her shoulder. They turned to see Regina slowly grasping the hilt of the dagger, yanking it free of Rumplestiltskin’s back.

Emma’s eyes widened as she studied the dagger. 

Upon the blade, beneath the dark stains of blood, she watched the name change shape. And in seconds, it was no longer Rumplestiltskin’s name claiming the dagger. Instead, it was emblazoned with the name ‘Mills.’

“Regina...” Her voice sounded a low warning, her hand reaching out.

“Yes.” Regina gripped her hand. 

Snow White stated what was on all of their minds. “You’re the new Dark One.”

Regina nodded slowly in response holding the blade up and tilting her head, examining the name. Her voice sounded far off... distant... as she murmured, “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Tension clung to every molecule in the air. Emma had never even considered the idea of Regina being the one to wield the dagger. Dark magic was her escape, her vice. And now all of the dark magic that existed had been laid like carefully-wrapped gifts at her feet.

Her stomach clenched with worry as she watched Regina touch the blade and turn it over in her hand. 

She looked up to them sharply, taking in each of their expressions.

And to the silent question each of them was too afraid to ask, she shrugged and mused, “Why would I want all of that darkness when I have the most powerful magic there is?”

Then her eyes settled on Emma. She smiled. And Emma released her breath, reaching for her once again and hugging her tight. They broke apart quickly, the dagger still in Regina’s hand, and they looked down at it simultaneously. Emma watched her true love’s eyes venture toward the lava and she knew what she had in mind. So she nodded, smiled her agreement... and Regina pitched the dagger into the lava.

Bursts of smoke flew up from the slowly-melting dagger, ash swirling around them. She and Regina shielded one another as all four sets of eyes watched the lava swallowing the Dark One’s source of power. As it melted, they heard a long breath escape from Rumplestiltskin’s body, that breath echoing around them as he too turned to ash, dissipating into the air.

And once the sword had been fully consumed, the lava disappeared. The mines were restored. And the elevator that led Emma to her true love dinged to life, its doors sliding open.

So she turned to Regina. As did Snow and James. With a slow smile, she asked of her, “So what now?”

And Regina drew in a slow breath, letting it out as she allowed herself to smile back. Their eyes met and she told Emma, “Now, I think I’d like to go home.”

 

TBC


	28. The Last Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Once upon a time, there was an Evil Queen. Well... she wasn’t really evil. She was evil because she was unhappy."

*****

“ _Once upon a time, there was an Evil Queen. Well... she wasn’t_ really _evil. She was evil because she was unhappy. And she was unhappy because she thought she had lost her True Love. But the truth is... she just hadn’t found it yet. So the queen cast a curse over all of the land, to steal everyone’s happy endings. She thought that would give her her own, but she was wrong. Sorta._ ”

Emma heard Henry’s voice as she made her way up the stairs, and she stopped at the doorway, listening to him through the half-open door.

“ _Everyone ended up in a town called Storybrooke, a town where time stood still, and everyone lost their memories but the queen. She thought nobody had escaped her curse, but a few did. One of them was a little princess, who grew up never knowing she was a princess, so she became a white knight instead. Then one day, the queen met the white knight. They found out they shared a son, and didn’t like each other at first. The queen didn’t want the white knight around. But slowly, things started to change. The white knight kept saving the queen, even though they didn’t really like each other. And the queen realized that the knight was really the princess that had escaped her curse._ ”

Emma smirked, folding her arms and leaning with them against the door frame, crossing one ankle over the other, the toe of her boot pressing into the hardwood floor. She watched her son sitting with his story book open in his lap, the smell of crisp new pages reaching her.

“ _One day, the curse was broken. The white knight saved everyone and brought back the happy endings. The queen was not happy, but she realized that the white knight was the only person that could save her from all the people who wanted to hurt her. They had to be nice to each other and work together. And neither one of them wanted to do it at first, but they did it anyway. And not long after that, they started to become friends. The queen gave the white knight magic by putting it in her blood, and that was when things_ really _started to change._ ”

“Henry?”

He turned over his shoulder, blinking his large hazel eyes at her. “Yeah?”

She chuckled. “Where did that story come from?” Off his dubious look, she smirked and rolled her eyes, clarifying, “I mean, how did it get into the book?”

“I wrote it, and August helped me put it in the book.”

“Ahh. Y’know, he’s out back looking for you.”

Henry nodded, smiling. “Tell him it’ll just be a few more minutes. This is really important.”

Emma tilted her head at him and he resumed his reading.

“ _The queen and the white knight became very close. They even started to love one another. But before either of them could realize it, Rumplestiltskin captured their son. So to save him, the queen let Rumplestiltskin take her instead. He took her to the mines under Storybrooke, where her mother, the Queen of Hearts, and some other evil people were waiting. They did terrible things to her. They wanted to destroy everyone’s happiness all over again and take over all of the magical realms by pushing them all together._ ”

Emma swallowed, recalling the battle that seemed a few lifetimes ago. Hearing footsteps approaching from behind, she turned her head over her shoulder and smiled, hands covering Regina’s as they slid their way around her stomach. 

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“He’s telling a story,” Emma whispered back, and smiled wider when Regina’s head rested in the hollow of her shoulder.

“Which one?”

“Ours.”

“ _Rumplestiltskin and the Queen of Hearts stole the queen’s power and then buried her in a tomb made of ice, thinking that the white knight would never be able to save her. But what they didn’t know was that the white knight was the queen’s True Love._ ”

Emma and Regina smiled at one another, Regina squeezing her a little tighter and brushing a kiss to her neck. Emma closed her eyes with a serene smile.

“ _So the white knight came to save the queen. She told the queen she loved her over and over and over until the ice broke apart and she was set free. Rumplestiltskin and the Queen of Hearts were mad. So they all started to fight. Snow White, Prince Charming, Red Riding Hood, the Blue Fairy, and some of the dwarves joined in their fight, and before long they had defeated both the Queen of Hearts and Rumplestiltskin. Peace came to the land, and all the dark magic disappeared._ ”

With a soft chuckle, Regina untangled herself from Emma and pressed her fingertips lightly to the door, swinging it open quietly. “Henry,” she murmured through a smile. “Don’t you think it’s time to say ‘the end’?”

“I’m on the last page, I promise!” His eyes begged them. “Please?”

Emma smirked, gesturing to Regina in a silent nudge to take the lead. Regina tilted her head admonishingly at the boy, her best stern look dissolving on a sigh. “Alright. But hurry, everyone’s waiting to see you.”

He nodded, adding one more time, “Promise.” Then, he turned back to the book. 

“ _With all the bad magic gone, the fairies pushed the realms apart. Snow White and Prince Charming returned to the fairytale land to rebuild their kingdom, and some of the fairytale characters went with them. The queen and the white knight stayed behind in Storybrooke with some of the other fairytale characters. The queen was in charge of the town and the white knight protected it. They worked very well together, and everyone was happy again... almost. The queen and the white knight were very much in love, they got married and they loved their son, but they felt like one little thing was missing._ ” 

As he began to read, Emma and Regina stepped into the room, Emma taking a seat beside Henry, while Regina moved to stand behind the mahogany crib that had taken up residence there.

“ _So they made a wish, and the Blue Fairy heard it._ ” Looking up, Henry smiled at the pink bundle in the crib. “That’s where you come in to the story, Amy! Amelia Snow White Mills.” He went back to the book, continuing to read. “ _She granted their wish and they soon had a daughter. So finally the queen and the white knight were whole, and they had everything they ever wanted. They had each other, they had their son... and then they had their daughter. They were a family._ ”

“Henry,” Regina murmured, patiently smiling and speaking as quietly as possible. “This is a beautiful tale, but I believe we need to wrap things up now. The baby needs her sleep.”

“Okay okay,” he relented, rolling his eyes and smirking. “But just one more line?”

Blinking slowly, Regina gave her son an indulgent smile and replied, “Of course. It’s the most important line.”

Henry smiled. He got to his feet and went to the crib, bracing his hands on the rail and looking down at the bundle of pink as he finished, “ _And they all lived happily ever after._ ”

Emma smiled at Regina, the two of them exchanging a look, while Henry reached into the crib and stroked his sleeping sister’s cheek. 

“See?” He looked up at Regina with a proud grin. “I got her to go to sleep.”

Emma chuckled. “Nicely done, kid,” she told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Now let’s get back downstairs and visit with everyone, huh?”

“Alright.” He ran down the stairs before she could say another word.

Turning in the doorway, she watched Regina as she stared down into the crib, her brows creased deep in thought. 

Emma frowned in concern, twisting the ring on her finger. “You okay?”

She watched as Regina thought it over. “I’m...” Slowly, the crease between her brows smoothed out. The thoughtful frown on her lips was replaced with a smile, and she looked up. “Happy.”

Chuckling a bit, Emma asked her, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes. It’s a good thing. A very good thing.” She smiled. 

Emma couldn’t help the last little chuckle that burst forth as she teased her, “Alright, well if it’s a good thing, then quit being such a weirdo. Come downstairs.”

Regina rolled her eyes in that classic ‘Mayor Mills’ fashion, lightly sniping, “You’re completely infuriating.”

Her heels clicked sharply on the hardwood floor and Emma smirked at the back of her wife’s head as she passed, murmuring, “I know,” before she followed her out the door.

Suddenly, Regina stopped her. “Wait, wait!”

And Emma’s eyes followed her back into the room as she quirked a brow. “Forget something?”

“Yes.” She stopped at the crib and leaned down to kiss her daughter on the top of her small, hairless head, murmuring, “I love you.”

Emma paused a moment at the flashback from what she’d seen so long ago in the mines, tilting her head at the sight. “Regina?”

“Hmm?” Regina murmured distractedly, straightening the blanket around their daughter and stroking her cheek. After a moment of silence ticked by, she looked up. “What is it?”

And Emma shook her head, shaking away the thoughts with a smile. “Nothing.”

Regina smiled back and stroked the baby’s cheek one more time, whispering, “Sleep tight, Amelia Snow,” before the two of them made their way out once more.

Emma softly closed the door halfway and they headed down the stairs in a comfortable, almost peaceful silence, smiling at one another again as they passed the dining room and the kitchen.

A record spun on the turntable near the back door, happy tunes filtering out into the backyard. The sound of laughter reached them as they pushed the screen door open, the smell of barbecue finding them next.

The first annual Storybrooke barbecue was underway, with many of the town’s former residents having returned to celebrate with them, including the King and Queen themselves.

“Hey, there they are!” King James greeted, dressed down in his ‘David Nolan’ attire as he worked the grill, waving to them with the barbecue tongs he held in one hand.

Snow White wrapped her arms around each of them in turn, rubbing Emma’s back as she said, “We were looking for you.”

“Just had to check on the little one,” Regina told her. “And retrieve Henry.”

Emma glanced around the crowd of familiar faces in their backyard. “Where’d he go, anyway?”

Just then they heard his playful roar and saw him jump out from behind the honeycrisp tree, tackling August and grappling for the football in his hands while August laughed at him and did his best to keep him from stealing it. Once he got it, he held it up and jumped in excitement. August tousled his hair and Henry then ran toward them, landing with his arms around Regina’s waist in a hug.

“Burgers are ready!” James announced, which incited a few cheers from their guests.

And for a moment, Regina and Emma just stood side-by-side, appreciating the sights in front of them. Friends and family, happy citizens, sitting down at several banquet-length picnic tables scattered around the yard, enjoying themselves and the company of one another. Memories of past misdeeds faded and forgiven, tenuous relationships on the mend, and all of them looking to make new memories together.

Regina reached over and took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. And Emma turned to smile back at her, the two of them united as one force: Wife and Wife. Mayor and Sheriff.

A Queen, and her White Knight.

 

**THE END**


End file.
